#trying to do these in the order i watched them

[mayakern]

I honestly don’t know how to write this; I have spent all week attempting to figure out what to say.

Last Monday I was informed by our factory that our merchandiser and direct point of contact with the factory passed away unexpectedly two weeks ago. She was someone who I have spent a great deal of time speaking to ever since we switched factories two years ago. She helped us realize designs for new products, sent us samples of garments extremely quickly and kept track of all our orders. She went to bat for us if something went wrong with our print shop or if I was unhappy with how a garment pattern was interpreted by their team. As their first American client and a brand that focuses on size inclusion, something that is not typical of their other clients, she handled a lot of crazy requests from us without blinking and she was dedicated to ensuring that both us and our customers were happy. We talked nearly every day, and though it was work related she was one of the kindest people I have had the pleasure interacting with daily.

She was beyond dedicated to her work and to working with us. Turkey has an 11-hour time difference from me in California, which means when she was emailing me at 2pm in the afternoon it was 1am there. You can sure bet that I extended her the same courtesy and tried my best to answer her emails at night too, even when I would rather just be sleeping.

It was also clear just how much she loved her job, and now much she loved you guys. She had been silently watching our social media since we first started working with them. She got just as excited as we did on launch days and would often email me unprompted about how she was glad people were leaving such positive comments and reviews. She read your feedback when no one ever asked her to do that or even expected it of her. She did it because she really, really cared.

Even though she was miles away and we never met in person, she was like a coworker to me and the loss of her is like losing someone on our team.

The Maya Kern team, as a whole, has been dealing with a lot lately. I personally just moved (which took far longer than we expected) and Maya and Devin are gearing up to move back to Minneapolis pretty soon. With the loss of our merchandizer, it has taken the wind out of my sails a little bit. I was trying to push through, even though I am exhausted, and carry out the photo shoot for our new products this weekend, but it has become clear that my body just can’t handle it. My arthritis has finally told me to stop moving, so unfortunately, we are going to have to reschedule the shoot for later on.

We are doing everything we can to make sure our next product drop on the 21st still happens. But as of right now, due to this sudden loss, the garments haven’t even shipped from the factory yet and I am not optimistic that they will clear customs and get checked into the fulfillment center in time for the launch. This means the drop is likely going to be pushed back to December 5th and instead of a full photo shoot, we will probably have to settle for taking quick photos of everyone at home, and likely with our phones. 

We work really hard to deliver not just garments we believe in, but also pictures of said garments on bodies that our customers can relate to, and unfortunately I just do not think that is possible this time. As always, we really appreciate your patience and understanding during what has been a very difficult time for us.

Ash

Chief Operations Officer

[gghostwriter]

Three's a Sideshow

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer misses an important date and ends up paying the consequences Trope:Angst w.c: 4.2k a/n: this is one of the many many requests of @lavonee (her exact request was: maybe spencer misses an important date/anniversary because of jj and reader is finally fed up being second place to her) trying my best to address all of them. Not proofread. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The hazy dim light of each candle on the white linen covered table gave the restaurant an orange hue. Various aromas of meat, wine, and complimentary cheese wafted through the enclosed space. Sensual tones of the saxophone lightly played on the speakers perfectly weave through each muted conversations between loved ones—couples and families. The high-end restaurant basked in good food and great company. 

Everything was perfect.

Every costumer joyous and warm from the delicious wine. 

All except for one, alone by the corner booth, phone pressed to your ear and eyes scanning for the tall, lithe form of the date for the night.

Beep. Beep. Be—

You grimaced at the busy line tone that answered you, again. Hands gripping the draped linen, trying your best not to tap your newly manicured fingers on the table—trying to blend into the background, unsuccessfully. 

You stuck out like a sore thumb. All dressed up with no partner or food on the table, just a glass of once chilled wine—condensation all around it like tears of abandonment and longing. 

The same waitress who escorted you to the table—15 minutes ago, approached with a perfectly rehearsed smile.

“Ma’am, are we ready to order?”

You sighed. “Actually, my boyfriend isn’t here yet—”

She bit her lip, nodding, before quickly averting her eyes to the queued up line outside the premise.

Right. It was a Friday night and every adult in the vicinity wanted a night out to unwind and start their weekend on the right foot.

You tightly smiled, the embarrassment of tonight painting your cheeks a deep maroon, unnoticed through the flickering of the orange candlelight. “—you know what, I think I’d just have a slice of your chocolate cake to go. Yeah, I’m sorry about holding up the table.”

The waitress nodded, understanding washing on her face. “That’s alright. I’ll have your order packed and ready to go.”

“Thanks,” you murmured as you watched her leave. 

Tonight was suppose to be special. 

You dressed up in the same white with purple printed flower midi length dress, styled your hair effortlessly, and spritzed on your favorite perfume that smelled like a luscious garden after a rainy night.

Everything was just like how it was two weeks ago—including your boyfriend of three years, Spencer Reid, not showing up for the date.

You didn’t even know why you bothered. Why his promise of being here tonight made you feel giddy and trusting. Why his commitment on having do-over for the actual anniversary dinner that he missed two weeks ago made you think it was going to end differently and why you gave him another chance—

Another chance to let you down.

Another crack in your belief that you were important.

Another heartache to soothe.

Another let down. 

When you first entered the relationship, you understood the gravity of his work. How his career will always come first and how unpredictable it all may be.

That part—accepting those facts, were easy. You were always one to be tolerant and understanding ever since childhood, labeled as the easy kid—the independent, the self-sufficient. Mixed in with your highly demanding career as a doctor, you got it—the patience and consideration of a saint.

A martyr, your good friend once bluntly said. 

But what good was being a martyr when the person you’re killing yourself for didn’t notice?

It didn’t matter at first. Missed messages, missed calls, missed dates were just a work of rotten timing from both ends. Sometimes it was you having to run to the hospital for an emergency surgery and sometimes it was him having to catch a plane to a latest serial killer case.

The tandem of both independent and busy people in the relationship worked, love blossomed regardless.

What made it different was, there was three of you in the relationship.

The third party being an intense platonic, as he once defended, connection with Her.

You felt it for the first time during a get together with his found family. Your set of eyes trained to read in between the lines for the truth patients unwittingly hide from their doctor. It was a skill that you honed and never hated, up until that moment.

The stolen glances when the other wasn’t looking.

The emotion veiled between the eyes.

The unsaid words that seemed to spill from the silence.

Never mind that there were two presences in the vicinity that could have their life altered in any minute from the secrets long hidden in vaults. It was as if you and her husband were considered ornaments, pieces of a possible aftermath not worth saving. 

You knew of their past—Spencer admitting to having a crush on her during his early days with the team, asking her out on a baseball game date, and her recent admission during a case.

Everything was water under the bridge, your boyfriend assured you. But the thing was, water had a way of overflowing from confinement, turning deadly, and ravaging what once was an idyllic garden that bloomed from your affection. 

Now as you pay for the tab and collect your things, you felt the tides that destroyed the solace inside of you well up to your eyes—wanting the release you’re fighting to keep at bay.

A fight you’re bound to lose.

You whispered a thank you to the waitress, soft and quiet that you were unsure if she even heard it but that was the best you could do, the sobs closing your vocal chords and threatening to escape, making you a spectacle—leaving the restaurant alone, with a boxed cake on hand.

What a sad sight.

You fumbled with the phone again, hands shaking as you insert the key on the ignition.

Beep. Beep. Be—

Nothing. 

What even was the point of all of this, you wondered. All this emotion, love, that was once sweet and heavenly now all felt rotten, puss oozing from its pores and flies exalting for a feast. 

Slowly backing your black 4-door sedan out of the parking lot, you pondered if this was the end—did you have any more left to give? Or was this just a bump on the road for the your future selves to learn and heartily laugh about? 

———

The rattling of your keys as you dropped it on the ceramic plate across the main door disrupted the silent, empty apartment.

A small smile graced your face as you remembered spontaneously booking a ceramic wheel class with Spencer in tow. His initial worries about getting under the nails dirty and the bacteria that could be collected from any stranger that used the items before the both of you swept away with your giggles and assurances to double up on vitamins. 

There was a wide grin on his face then, accepting defeat from the sight of your enthusiasm and glee. 

It was one of your greatest memory with Spencer and when the glazed pottery came from the mail—yours, a wonky blue green plate and his, an uneven moss green bowl, you had him promise to take you again.

A promise that never came to fruition.

You sighed, eyes tracking the rented space you never quite moved in to. The walls painted this dark green color, reflecting the somber mood you frequently found yourself in and the shelves filled to the brim with books you never dream of reading.

in hindsight, maybe your subconscious was telling you something. Why you never agreed to Spencer’s casual asking of you to live with him. Why you were adamant of keeping your own apartment regardless of the nights you spent outside of it.

This place became your pseudo-home, comfortable but never quite permanent. 

The distant murmur of a car being parked on the street had you clambering up from your defeated, slouched position on the leather couch. In your gut, you knew who it was.

You spotted them exiting the SUV.

The two figures that make the relationship three—a sideshow for everyone to see.

Spencer and JJ. 

They talked for a bit, probably saying pleasantries of goodbyes, before she leaned in for a hug. One that he reciprocated, patting her back as he went. 

They looked like a couple and if you were in your right state of mind, you’d chalk the exchange up to nothing but you weren’t—you were wounded and unsure of your standing ever since you exited the restaurant.

Were you his first still?

Or were you just second place? 

They were questions you never wanted no, needed, to be addressed but it seemed like tonight was the night of reckoning.

As you watched Spencer enter the apartment, the smile on his face from spotting you slowly become a furrow between his brows, you fidgeted—pulling the coat tighter to your body, the one you never hung on the back of the door—ready to bolt.

“Love, I’m so sorry I missed our reservation—”

He went in for a kiss on your glossy lips. 

A simple act that you didn’t have the energy to accept, you turned your head to the side. His lips catching your cheek instead.

“It’s fine,” you sardonically replied. “It wasn’t like I was waiting for you for half an hour to show up. It’s fine, Spencer.” 

His brow twitched. 

“It sounds like it’s not fine. Why don’t you tell me what you really feel? We promised to openly communicate, didn’t we?”

You huffed, throwing your hands up in the air. “I said it’s fine, Spencer. Why don’t you give it a rest?”

“You look beautiful,” his calloused fingers gently caressing your hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t show. It’s just that JJ and the tea—”

Your last thread of reason snapped clean from hearing her name.

“It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it? Me coming after her?”

“Love.”

“Don’t touch me—don’t call me that,” you pushed his hands away, tucking the escaped tendrils behind your ears. 

His own, raking the wavy brown hair you loved, in frustration. You could tell, with how his hands opened and closed, that he was itching to touch you, comfort you. 

“Her? You mean, JJ? She’s a friend. Just a friend.” 

“And if this friend wasn’t married with kids, would you still be here with me now?”

Silence. 

There, you said it.

“What—yes, yes of course. Why would you ask that? Why would you doubt it? Doubt me?”

Your gut twisted inside of you. It was inconceivable for someone like Spencer to lie, wasn’t it? He was a good guy, one of the best. But all the hidden resentment in your heart—a pile you weren’t even aware of, no longer wanted to be silenced. It no longer wanted to be pushed to the side for optimism and denial. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Maybe it’s the way you look at her—” voice raising up an octave. You’ve lost control, verbally dumping out everything. “Do you think I don’t see it? You look at her with this, this nostalgia and—and this emotion that I can’t compare to—never seen it when you look at me! Or maybe, maybe it’s because you drop everything for her? Including me?”

“Are you talking about when Henry got sick?” his hands finding a home on his hips. “I thought you understood—you of all, should have.”

Your laughter turned into a sob. “I do—I did, until you dropped me of unceremoniously back here, in this apartment, just so you could rush out to her home. Like I was some kind of secret, you didn’t want to bring around her. Like I was some sort of disease, you didn’t want her catching. Didn’t you think I would be of great help? A licensed medical doctor?”

“I wasn’t thinking straight—I thought you, you shouldn’t be exposed to the type of flu Henry contracted. You could have gotten sick too and could have passed it on to your other patients.”

“It’s my job to take care of the sick, don’t you think I take measures for my own health? Spencer, please, for once just be honest with me.”

He tilted his head. “Honest about what?”

“If it’s her you really want and if I’m just a passable substitute to settle down with.”

You could see his eyes blazing with such—disgust? Anger? You didn’t know what emotion it was before it was snuffed out, leaving his expression blank and almost sad. It was a look you were familiar with, his profiler look.

“I don’t need you profiling me and my insecurities, Spencer. I just want the truth. The God-honest truth.” 

“I love you. I can’t imagine a life without you—I won’t imagine it. Isn’t that enough?”

Your hands drop to your side.

“I don’t know. Is it?”

The distance created by the silence between you and Spencer was vast. You’ve never felt quite alone and isolated in the relationship until this moment. Was this it, then? The end to your once dreamed of happy ever after? 

“I’m sorry I missed the dinner. Why don’t you let me make it up to you? We can book the same restaurant for next week and—”

“You can’t just make up for a make up anniversary dinner, that’s not how it works in real life, Spencer. And besides, I don’t want to see the same pitying looks the workers there give me when they realize my date is again, and again, a no-show.”

He sighed, slowly invading your space. The arms that once felt like home to you, circling your waist, now felt foreign. You never imagined you’d get here but then again, who did? 

Your hands clasped his button down before loosening its grip. Taking in one more whiff of his cedar-wood and mint perfume, you pushed him away. Stepping backwards from his presence and all he had to offer.

“It’s late. We’re both tired—”

He nervously smiled. Intertwining his fingers with yours and started to walk backwards to the direction of the bedroom. “Yeah, we can talk about it in the morning once you feel better.”

You wiggled your hand free.

“Actually, I think I have to go.”

Spencer paused, panic coloring his face. “That’s—that’s not what I meant, love. Anything but that. Please, please I love you and I’m sorry.”

“Me too, Spence. Me too.” 

You slowly gathered your things, sans the chocolate cake left opened and untouched on the coffee table. 

“Happy anniversary, I need space to think this all through—to think us through.”

He stood still, blocking your way, trying to wrap his head around the direction this was going to. The inevitable downfall of him and you. It was a car crash no one could no longer escape from. 

“Please, let me fix this. I can do it, just—tell me how. Do you want me to limit my time spent with JJ? I-I can try, just please, don’t leave me.”

It wasn’t a promise, you noted. With how many broken promises there were between the span of your relationship, you wondered if that was a conscious choice of wording from him. It sounded hopeful, gleaming with oath even. But they were just words at the end of the day, packaged pretty for you to swallow.

“I need time, Spencer. I’m not breaking up with you, I just need space,” you placed a kiss on his cheek, wet from tears. “Can you give me that, love?”

He choked a sob. 

“Promise me you’ll be back. Promise me.”

You tightly smiled, making your way back to the door. The unanswered plea hanging in the air like a blade, waiting to slash down between you—waiting to sever the connection that was once shiny and new. 

Shakily removing the spare key of the apartment from your chain, you chanced one last look at his hunched form—sobs emitting from his sweet lips and acid rain spilling down his cherub cheeks, regretting that this might be your last memory of Spencer Reid.

You didn’t know if you’d be back. 

If the thought of being second place will ever go away.

But the sinking feeling in your gut tells you the truth—that this is it.

This is final.

This is the end. 

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[wileys-russo]

Alessia, "I didn't cheat on you, it was just a dream babe!", mad alessia at training

disloyal dreams II a.russo

"-are you going to be like this all day?" you sighed as you tried to start a conversation with the blonde beside you who shrugged, again refusing to give you any sort of verbal response.

"alessia. the silent treatment, really?" you repeated, eyes burning into the side of her head as she shrugged and you dragged your hands down your face exhaling heavily.

"i thought we were good at communication. we've been together for a year and a half!" you reminded, alessia dead silent as her fingers drummed against the steering wheel and she came to a stop at a red light.

"less, babe will you just tell me what i've done wrong? i can't fix it if i don't know what i did!" you groaned frustrated, the blonde only leaning forward and turning up the stereo louder making you wince.

"fine, be like this then." you grumbled with a shake of your head, crossing your arms and staring out the window, knowing her well enough that the striker when warranted could be incredibly stubborn.

though the problem you were having today is you weren't even sure where this grudge she had against you was coming from. you'd gone to bed and things were all fine and normal, the pair of you ordering in and falling asleep cuddled up together watching a movie in the living room as you often did.

you'd woken up first, slowly shaking the taller girl on top of you until she did too and the two of you had stumbled tiredly to bed. her long limbs entrapping you in her hold the moment your backs hit the mattress, eyes heavy and a few sleepy kisses exchanged, all seemed fine.

but then this morning you'd woken up to an empty bed, frowning right away as alessia was almost never the first one awake between you.

in fact over the time you'd been together even before you'd moved in with her whenever you slept over at alessia's you'd learned to set your alarm a half an hour earlier than either of you had to be up because it took that long to coax the sleepy blonde to actually get up.

your confusion only grew further when a quick search of the house showed it to be empty, your calls out for your girlfriend going unanswered both vocal and on the phone, a sense of worry beginning to settle in.

however right before it really hit its peak you heard keys in the front door, racing down the stairs and breathing out in relief when she stepped inside, body coated in a thin sheen of sweat and hair pulled back into a bun.

you tried to speak to her and draw her into a hug, mumbling ut you'd been worried sick and asking why she hadn't at least left a note or sent a text but all you got was a shrug and a grumble she needed a shower.

ever since then the most your girlfriend had said was maybe three words, the rest of her responses all grunts or hums as at first you thought maybe she hadn't slept well and was just tired.

though then it started to feel a lot more personal and as much as you'd asked and asked and asked, she wouldn't tell you just why she was so seemingly upset with you or what you'd done to earn such a stubborn silence.

pulling into the training grounds you tried again to ask if the two of you could talk, trying to angle that it wasn't healthy to go into training if she was in a bad head space but all that resulted in was a door closed in your face and a rap of her knuckles against your window a moment later, wordlessly telling you to hurry up.

despite the fact alessia could be one of the most sweet, kind and downright lovely human beings you'd ever had the pleasure to know let alone fall in love with, she still had her share of off day but normally she was quite good at hiding them from your teammates.

today however she didn't seem to care in the slightest, making no move to disguise the fact she wasn't talking to you and clearly was in a mood, the tension thick and uncomfortable as you stared at her longingly across the change rooms.

"mate. what did you do to that poor girl?" leah flopped herself down in her own cubby beside you as you sighed, alessia not even sparing you a glance as she laced her boots up and stormed out, ignoring both emily and lotte who tried to stop and speak with her clearly sensing she wasn't okay.

"nothing! well at least not that i can work out? i've been given the silent treatment all morning." you huffed with a roll of your eyes, wrestling to undo the tight knots in your boots and sending kyra a venemous glare across the room who was clearly the culprit.

but sensing maybe today was not the day to have pushed your buttons the australian was quick to shrink beneath your murderous stare, taking off out of the room within seconds flat.

"give it here." leah chuckled, having already undone your other boot as you shoved it at her and sunk down into your seat, stroppy look on your face and mouth turned downward into a sour pout.

"did you have an argument?" "no." "did you not do something you said you would?" "I don't think so?" "did you forget an anniversary? birthday? special date?" "definitely not." "did you..." leah trailed off, clearly trying to think of something to say.

"nah i've got nothing. good luck sunshine!" the blonde shrugged, pinching your cheek and handing you the now untangled boot. "leah!" you groaned, hoping for the older girl to at least have had perhaps some wisdom to offer.

throughout the day your confusion only grew when the stony silence continued, the two of you at least kept mostly separate for the majority of training, having grown embarrassed now by your shut down attempts to talk to alessia.

thankfully bar a few ill timed comments from some of your younger peers who hadn't yet learnt how to read a room everyone backed off the teasing you'd been worried about, most of them just as confused as you by the air of frustration and irritation radiating off the blonde striker.

"fucking hell less!" leah swore, barely able to duck out of the way of a poorly timed but incredibly powerful strike which rocketed past her ear and swooshed into the back of the goal.

you however were not so lucky, admittedly quite out of it most of the session as your brain ticked over and you overthought every little action and interaction you'd had with the blonde in the last twenty four hours.

it was this distraction which caused you to have zoned out on the sidelines, staring off into space and triple checking in your head every significant event and date to try and work out just why your girlfriend was so clearly off with you.

but you were grounded right back into reality when suddenly something hit you very hard and very fast right in the face, the unexpected ball knocking you on your ass as you felt something wet drip down your face and you started to feel a little woozy.

you watched as both your teammates and some of the staff crowded around you, seeing their mouths moving but unable to decipher what was being said due to the obnoxious ringing in your head.

the medics eventually arrived, shooing everyone away to give you some space and a collective slightly disgusted groan sounded as suddenly you lurched forward and emptied the contents of your breakfast onto the grass beside you.

you winced as a bright light was shone right in your eyes, trying to bat away the hand responsible as someone else grabbed your wrists and stopped you.

blinking a few times as finally the light went away and your hearing returned right in time to hear one word before you were helped to your feet and walked off the pitch.

concussion.

you sighed heavily but nodded as you laid down on one of the padded benches in the medic office, the lights dim and one of the trainee's running you through the concussion protocol you knew like the back of your hand.

with a heavy sigh you felt him squeeze your knee in a silent apology before ducking out to grab some paperwork, an incident report needing to be done as you covered your face with your hands and felt your heartbeat thump in your ears.

when you heard the door open again you assumed he'd returned and you might be cleared to leave, but to your surprise when you looked up there was a different person now looking down on you, your bag slung over her shoulder and car keys in hand.

you didn't expect her to say anything and you didn't have it in you for an argument, so with a grunt you pulled yourself into a seated position, her hands quick to steady you and you hated how good it felt to feel her touch even in such a minimal way.

"you cheated on me."

your head snapped up so fast you felt your neck throb and the headache settling behind your eyes pulse as you sat in a state of shock, sure you'd just heard her incorrectly.

"i-what?" you managed to croak out, the blonde fiddling with the strap of the bag as she nodded. "you cheated on me." she repeated and just like earlier you felt a horrendous sense of nausea settle in.

"i think i'm going to be sick." you began to panic, bile rising in your throat as you looked around desperately for a sick bag of some sort as alessia's hands settled on your cheeks and you tensed up.

"you cheated on me last night." she repeated in a tone so soft you almost didn't hear her, incredibly confused and now wondering just how hard you'd hit your head as you blinked.

"alessia. what? i-baby i would never ever chea-" you couldn't even get the words out until the blonde shook her head, one of her hands coming to cover your mouth, an odd look of guilt now present on her face which had you even more confused.

"in my dream, last night. you cheated on me in my dream, that's why i've been so off with you today..." the blonde bit her bottom lip with a wince as you paused, slowly moving her hands off of you as she shifted nervously.

"i didn't cheat on you." "no." "but you thought i did?" "kind of? i know it was a dream, but it felt really real!"

"alessia..." you trailed off in disbelief, the trainee from earlier taking one step inside as the pair of you looked at him and clearly sensing he might have been interrupting he quickly ducked back out of the room with a mumble you were free to go.

"i still think you should say sorry." the blonde seemed to regain her confidence as your jaw dropped and you looked at her in bewilderment. "for what?" you squeaked out, alessia sighing and shaking her head.

"for cheating on me." "i didn't cheat on you? it was just a dream babe!" you threw your hands up with a scoff and hissed, your head throbbing as your eyes squeezed shut.

"okay. well since you have a concussion, i'll forgive you anyway." alessia decided, stepping forward to stand in between your legs and giving you a smile as if she'd just done you a favour.

"you'll forgive me?" "yes. now baby we should really get you home, i've got your concussion plan and you have to come in tomorrow for a re-assessment." alessia nodded, patting your bag and holding our a hand to help you up as you stared at her with narrowed eyes.

"you'll forgive me. for ignoring me all day and making me feel like i've done the wrong thing? like i'm the the crazy one?" you stuttered out still in shock that this was the reason for her cold shoulder and off put behavior.

"hey! you can't use that." alessia snatched your phone out of your hand and slid it into your bag with a tut. "i need it." you held your hand out expectantly and rolled your eyes as your girlfriend had the audacity to laugh.

"for what?" she questioned as you smacked away her attempted helping hands and she frowned.

"because i need to write a note." "a note?" "yes alessia. a note that when my head isn't absolutely throbbing i am going to yell at you and then give you the silent treatment all day!"

"what! baby why? you cheated on me, and i forgave you?" "i cannot control my actions in a dream alessia, and so i didn't cheat on you!" "baby you shouldn't get so worked up, you'll make your headache worse." "dating you is a headache russo." "...so is now a bad time to ask for that apology?" "it was a dream alessia!"

[machveil]

I’m kinda obsessed with your guard dog Simon x puppy reader😭how does Simon punish reader when he thinks she’s being naughty or not listening to his orders?? 😩

you know what, I’m also obsessed with GuardDog!Simon Riley x Puppy!Reader low-key high-key

CW: slight oral fixation, suggestive

GuardDog!Simon Riley doesn’t dish out punishments too often, he knows puppies get excited sometimes, wander off without batting an eye. when you leave his side he knows, cold gaze always following you, he waits for a moment before tailing after you. he likes to see if you’ll notice that you’ve walked away from him, and when you do he likes seeing you scramble back to his side. if you keep wandering away from him, on purpose or by accident, Simon will slip his arm around your neck. beefy bicep and strong forearm acting like a collar, making sure you stay with him

GuardDog!Simon Riley won’t do anything to embarrass you in public, but he isn’t afraid to lightly reprimand you. if you tease him for too long, a little too much, his chest will rumble - a deep, gravelly warning hum to knock it off. Simon doesn’t give you orders often, he’s more than pleased to follow your commands, but when you ignore his grumbled ‘quit it’? maybe, he thinks, it’s because his little puppy needs attention. he hasn’t been neglecting you, has he? surely not, he’s been by your side this entire trip, he’s kept you tucked against his side as you walked. but giving you a little attention wouldn’t hurt

GuardDog!Simon Riley who leads you to a quiet corner of the mall you’re in - a neglected hallway with benches and a humming vending machine. he’ll sit with his back to the hallway entrance, blocking the view of the outside world from you. just you and your mutt. it’s not a real punishment, he wouldn’t do that to you in the open, but this is good enough for now. “Open.”, voice low, he hums when you pout, seemingly trying to play indifferent. he likes the way your shoulders slope when he gently grabs your chin, thumb resting on your lip, “Open, pup?”. a gentler tone, one that has you breathing a little slower, opening your mouth for him slightly

a little attention, something to get your act together. GuardDog!Simon Riley who pushes his index and middle finger into your mouth, lets you dumbly suck on them while he pets your hair. easy to please, it always makes his heart squeeze when your eyelids droop, lashes fluttering as you melt. he doesn’t care if drool and spit run down his hand, Simon just watches over you - like a good dog should. his pretty little puppy, whining when Simon mumbles ‘release’. but you’re finally listening to him again, pulling off his fingers with spit slick lips. it always works in his favor, having you relaxed and little dumb. it makes it easier for him to keep you by his side, or walking in front of him to hide the tent in his pants

CW: Fem!Reader, Simon being a little condescending, ‘pup’ and ‘good girl’, fingering, overstimulation, orgasm denial

GuardDog!Simon Riley who gets you into bed when you get home. he doesn’t want to hurt his precious little pup, spanking you wouldn’t feel right to him. no, Simon bends you over his lap for a different reason. “Can’t protect you if ya keep runnin’ off.”, voice low and raspy, he smoothes his hand over your plush ass, tutting when you squirm. just a little training, something to get you to behave next time you go out with Simon. spitting on his fingers, he hums, “Good pups listen, yeah?”. his free hand is running through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as his middle finger dips into your cunt

he’s not being mean, he’s just trying to help you! good girls who listen get to come. he shushes you when you whine and moan a little too loud, presses your face against his sheets as he bullies his index finger into your heat, “I know, feels so good.”. it makes your brain melt, eyes screw shut - how softly he pets your hair and murmurs to you, how his fingers blur a bit from how fast he’s pumping into you. on the verge of sweet bliss when he pulls his hand away, sends you spiraling with a cry, “No.”. a low, rumbled command. he knows you’re smart, can do a trick for him, “Count.”

every time he denies you, you sob out another number - starting over when you lose track. thighs a slick mess as he abuses your poor cunt, stopping short of you orgasm for the umpteenth time, “Good, bein’ so pretty f’me. How many was tha’, pup?”. and when you finally blubber out ‘ten’ - even though that’s not a completely accurate count after hours of messing up - he feels pride warm his chest. “Good girl, can my dumb puppy beg?”, he can’t help the way his cock chubs up, achingly hard when you plead with him. a good guard dog makes sure you’re safe and sound, so Simon holds you close as he fucks his fingers into you, thumbing at your clit as you’re finally allowed release, “Don’t go runnin’ off again, got it?”

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Halloween! Would love more of F is for Frankenstein! 🧟‍♂️

a continuation of 1

Twelve hours later JARVIS has brought him up to speed on what was clearly the weirdest week of his life, the fabrication units are working on a better container for his corpse than the damn suit, and they’ve identified nearly a hundred ways that this plan isn’t going to work.

JARVIS isn’t deterred.

One of the advantages of being a synthetic person is that he can’t feel exhaustion physically, although this whole experience has confirmed that he can feel it mentally. The downside to this is that he doesn’t have any sort of natural que to alert him to the passage of time.

Which means he doesn’t have any idea how long it’s been until it occurs him to check and he frowns. There’s something not quite right, besides the obvious. “Did you – shouldn’t I have gotten some calls or something by now? What did you tell them?”

It’s been almost twenty four hours since he died. Even with the clean up from a massive alien invasion to see too, he’s sort of expected someone to reach out to him. Agent Coulson is such a stickler for timely debriefs –

Ah. He was such a stickler for timely debriefs. Tony isn’t the only one that hadn’t gotten out of this mess alive.

“Sir has received eighty nine assorted calls and texts from Miss Potts, fifty three from Colonel Rhodes, one hundred and twelve from Mr. Hogan, and seventeen from various SHIELD personnel. Two of those are from Director Fury personally. There have been close to a thousand from various news and media companies, but those have been ignored and deleted per Sir’s standing orders.”

It’s amazing how well he’s able to synthesize and interpret emotion. He’d installed a rudimentary AI into – well, himself, he guesses, and that combined with the memory dump is really exceeding all of his expectations. He knows this because he’s appalled. “JARVIS! What the hell? If we’re going to convince the world I’m not dead, we have to talk to people!”

“Is that what we’re going to do?” JARVIS asks.

There’s steel in his voice, a warning buried in there. TONY’s heard that tone before but never, ever directed at him.

Except it’s not. Jarvis would never talk to Tony Stark like that, but he’s not Tony Stark. He’s just one more robot and AI for Jarvis to corral, although sophistication wise he’s several steps ahead of his helper bots. Except he might not be, because not even Butterfingers would be dumb enough to agree to something like this.

“It’s not going to work,” he says harshly, because it isn’t. “But yeah, I guess that’s what we’re going to do.”

“Calling Miss Potts,” JARVIS says promptly, and Jesus, that’s not what he meant at all.

“Don’t,” he hisses, but of course it’s too late and Pepper picks up immediately.

“Tony?” she asks, voice shaky and hoarse and faint. She’s been crying. She’s been crying hard enough that it’s stolen her voice and he knows Jarvis was focused on other things, but he could have at least sent her a text. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

He breathes and then leans over, elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He doesn’t even have an omelette to hide behind this time. He knows he’s dead and he’s seriously considering the idea that this is hell.

“Tony?” she repeats, voice going up several notches in the way he hates. She’s afraid. He hates when she’s afraid.

He forces him mouth to move, forces words pass his lips. “Hey, Pep.”

“Oh god, Tony,” she says and then there are tears again. He wishes he could hold her, could kiss her tears away and could fold his arms around her delicate shoulder and tuck her beneath his chin, keeping her safe and keeping her close. Except he can’t do any of that, because he’s not Tony Stark. “Tony, Tony – you left so quickly and we couldn’t find you and no one’s been able to get in contact with you and JARVIS is offline in the tower and – where are you? Are you okay? I watched you fly that bomb into the portal, and,” she has to cut herself off to try and keep from crying again.  

You watched me die, he thinks, although he obviously doesn’t say it. “Hey, breathe for me, okay? Deep calming breaths, I know you have a lot experience with those around me-”

“Don’t tell me to breathe!” she snaps. “Where are you, Tony? What’s going on?”

He hesitates. They haven’t discussed this, and they really should have before JARVIS put that call through. Unless this is a test, and wow, his AI are such assholes. That old curse about having kids that are just like you is making more sense by the second.

“Something happened to my memory,” he says, which is probably the only true thing he’ll be able to tell her and will hopefully cover the gaps of things that JARVIS couldn’t tell him. “I got here and passed out and I just woke up and I panicked and I don’t – I saw space, and the – the aliens, which is so weird to say Pepper, I need you to fully appreciate how weird that is, but my head is killing me and nothing makes sense. The last memory I have on Earth is us running final checks on the clean energy prototype.”

He's a terrible person. Or, well, a terrible android. Whatever.

“Where is here?” she presses, her voice softening and strengthening both. It’s always so much easier for her get her bearings when she’s the one taking care of him, which is probably why she’s always so steady. She’s always taking care of him. “Where are you, Tony?”

There’s no getting around this one. Jarvis probably won’t be happy about it, but TONY isn’t really happy with him right now either. “Malibu. I’m at the Malibu house. Sorry, I don’t know why I came here – I mean, I really don’t, I was blacked out for most of it. Give me a couple hours for everything to stop spinning and I’ll head back to New York. Wait, are you still in New York? You were going have to leave early for that thing after we tested the prototype-”

“I am in New York now,” she says, almost sounding calm. “Do not fly the suit if things are spinning Tony, I swear to god.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, just a little spinning, you’re so dramatic-”

“Tony!” she interrupts, but the hitch in her voice is laughter instead of tears. “God, Tony. I’m so glad you’re okay. I love you, so, so much.”

If there is a hell for androids, that’s where he’s going.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m glad you’re okay too, Pep.” He can’t say it but he has to say it because Tony would say it, because Tony loves saying it, because he loves her so much that it sits heavier on his chest than the arc reactor ever could. “I love you too.”

He stares at his hands for a long time after the call ends. His fingerprints are Tony’s, of course, and his hair is Tony’s and his memories are Tony’s and this feeling that he wants to call love belongs to Tony too. None of it is his.

Well, except the guilt. That’s definitely his.

“Incoming call from Colonel Rhodes,” JARVIS announces.

“Answer it,” he says. Why is he so damn tired? He’ll have to run a diagnostic on his processors later.

There’s nothing but harsh breathing down the line, filling every corner of the workshop. TONY thinks, maybe a little hysterically, that it’s the only breathing happening here. He’s designed to mimic it, but it’s nothing besides that, mimicry. “Hi Papa Bear, how are things?”

The heavy breathing stops, for so long that TONY wonders if they got disconnected, then Rhodey bites out, “I’m going to kill you, Tony! I’m too damn old for this, you can’t keep giving me heart attacks every time I take my eyes off you!”

Too late. Tony’s already dead.

“You’re only two years older than me,” he says. “If it weren’t for me, you would have been the youngest freshman at MIT. Besides, a heart attack or two is character building, I’ve had like. Seven. Ish.”

“Reminding me how many times you’ve almost died is not your smartest move right now,” Rhodey says. “Tell me you’re okay.”

It’s a demand, an order, firm and unyielding like he’s one of Rhodey’s underlings. Except that Tony was giving orders way before Rhodey was, with the whole running his own multi-billion dollar business thing, and that tone of voice has never worked on him. Still, he says, “I’m okay.”

“Tony,” he says warningly, clearly not believing him, which is fair enough. He is lying.

TONY sighs, hanging his head like he can stretch the tension out of him, but that’s not how things work anymore. He’s vibranium and silicone and some other interesting materials and all his tension is mental. “Sour patch, I’m fine. Okay? Confused as all hell, but I’m okay. I’m sorry I worried you. I really didn’t mean to.”

“You never mean to,” Rhodey says, but his voice has softened and lowered. It sounds like he’s holding the phone even closer. “You almost never mean to.”

“It’s just difficult, is the thing, because you’re a little prone to worrying, a worrywart, as your mother might say-”

“My mother worries more about you than me and always has even though I used to be only one us getting blown up,” he says.

TONY pauses, considering. “Well, she is a smart lady.”

“Damn straight,” he agrees. “Pepper says you’re in Malibu. I can be there in two hours.”

“No!” he shouts, then winces. His eyes skitter over to the suit holding Tony’s body. They need a plan and that plan can’t involve Rhodey being here in two hours. “Don’t. Stay with Pepper. Please.”

“She’s fine,” Rhodey retorts. “You-”

“I’m fine,” he interrupts. “I’m fine, she’s fine, we’re both fine, except she’s in the city that was recently invaded by murderous aliens and I’m not and I have a suit of armor with repulsor technology and she doesn’t, so. Stay with her. Please.”

The silence drags on then Rhodey lets out an aggravated sigh. “Fine. But get your ass over here and if you miss another call from either of us I’m heading over, no matter what you say.”

“Sir yes sir,” he says.

He expects Rhodey to hang up on him then, but he lingers, nothing but his real, non synthetic breathing on the other end. “You really scared me this time. I saw the news reports and then we couldn’t find you-”

“Hey,” he says softly. A bomb and Tony disappearing and Rhodey unable to anything about it. Tony wasn’t the only one of them that had nightmares after Afghanistan. Neither of them had ever been particularly good at sleeping, but it was nearly impossible those months after, when he and Rhodey were fighting and Tony was hiding Iron Man and they still crawled into the same bed because Rhodey got frantic if he reached out in the middle of the night and found the bed empty. Which he often would, considering how much time Tony was spending in his workshop.

They shared a bed more after Afghanistan than before it. Rhodey had been willing to risk the paparazzi and exposure if his other option was staring up at his ceiling and having a panic attack about Tony being gone. Tony had been bitter about that, which certainly hadn’t helped their fight about weapons manufacturing any.

Pepper’s nightmares had been easier. She’d only been his assistant and friend at the time, after all. She would call him at two or three or four in the morning – or all three – and have some sort of urgent question or something for him to sign and he just went along with it because she just needed to hear his voice to fall back asleep and he’d learned after the first teary voicemail and alert from JARVIS that when he didn’t pick up, her vitals were out of acceptable range, per the prototype StarkWatch on her wrist.

It wasn’t until after they got together that she told him she actually drove to his house most nights and called him from her car rather than her bed. Just in case he didn’t answer, which wasn’t logical and didn’t make any sense at all but Pepper hadn’t pretended it had.

They’d all gone a little crazy, after Gulmira, but they’d settled.

But this is going to bring it all bubbling up and if TONY doesn’t figure out a way to reassure them then they’re going to want to stick close to him like they had before and he can’t let them do that. He can’t keep up pretending to be Tony forever and it’s going to be either Pepper or Rhodey who figures it out. He doesn’t need to help that process along at all.

Except that since they watched Tony fly a nuke into space and then hadn’t heard from him in two days, that’s basically impossible. The fact that it wasn’t three months and from their perspective he’s actually fine is going to help, but the level of damage control he’s capable of here is fairly minimal.

Still, he has to try.

“Honey,” he says, making his voice soft and warm like Tony only does when they’re alone. He doesn’t know where Rhodey is now, if he’s somewhere private, but he doesn’t hang up or stop him. All the stupid nicknames were fun and genuinely affectionate but they were also cover for the times that Tony slipped and called him something he shouldn’t, a little too genuine and not quite kitsch enough to pass muster. “Love, it’s okay. I got my head knocked around some, that’s all. And because I freaked out and ended up on the wrong side of the country, I need you in New York, doing what I can’t. That’s all. I’ll be there soon.”

If there’s a hell for androids, TONY is going there and the hellfire will be hot enough to melt his vibranium core, which, you know, is going to the be least of what he deserves.

“I love you,” Rhodey says. TONY closes his eyes. “You know that, right, baby? I do.”

It’s a bad, bad sign that Rhodey is the one using pet names, especially over the phone. “I know. Of course I know. I’ve always known.”

Over two decades of secrets and hiding and fooling around with women he didn’t give a shit about, before Pepper, and through every lonely, angry, desperately sad moment of it, Tony had known that Rhodey loved him. He wouldn’t have put up with that shit for anything less.

Tony died knowing that Rhodey loved him. TONY is sure of it. It’s the worst sort of cold comfort and he’s glad that he can’t offer it.

“I love you,” TONY echoes, because Tony’s been saying it for twenty six years and there’s no good reason for him to stop now.

Except that Tony is dead. He’ll never tell Rhodey that he loves him again.

One day Rhodey and Pepper will find out that the truth and know that while they heard Tony’s voice telling them what they needed to hear, while they let relief nudge out the fear, Tony was dead and cold and gone.

He hates this. This wasn’t what he was programmed for.

This isn’t what Tony would have wanted. But until he can convince JARVIS of that, they’re all stuck in this hell of the AI’s making.

[dwaekkicidal]

👾 anon making a comeback!

what about 2min teaching another member who just got a gf how to fuck her properly? like, they have a toy or something for the other member to practice on while 2min demonstrates on reader?

i could imagine the other member thrusting into the toy wrongly and lee know just goes ‘nononono, like this’ and thrusts into reader for the nth time and overstims them.

while one of 2min is fucking reader, the other is trying to make reader stop being so loud and shoves their cock into readers mouth.

and to top it all off, since reader literally cannot stop convulsing theres a bit of collar play and 2min tugs on the collar when they need to and theyre unphased but reader is out here drooling all over themselves

im nasty, what can i say? 👾👾👾

oh my fucking god?? U ARE NASTY BUT THANK U FOR THIS

this is 1k words LMFAO oopsie..

something about them making the other member use a toy instead of their own girlfriend is so.... humiliation kink at its finest

like them saying something along the lines of "if you can't fuck her properly, you can't get her at all" and its not even their girlfriend to make such bold commands?? ugh

i can picture this being hard/mean dom! jeongin's awakening

so lets picture this. virgin!innie who hasnt even seen a vagina until the first time you two got intimate. and even then, the few times you two have been intimate only included mutual masturbation

so i bring you!! closeted mean dom 2min who offers their help to their poor maknae!

he goes to them first, expressing his worries about not performing well enough for his girlfriend- and about how he doesn't want to embarrass himself by not being able to pleasure you properly!

so he gets 2 of his favorite hyungs in his room seated on either side of you. their hands are all over you, from showing jeongin how to finger you properly, and describing to him how to curve his fingers the way you like it.

and how do they know he's performing well enough? well that would be all thanks to the fleshlight they bought him :)

its clear so they can see through it, watching his fingers every move. and he has such long, pretty fingers, so it would be such a shame if they went to waste? "thank god we're teaching him this too, right y/nnie?"

they make you cum twice on their fingers, one time each man so they can give their own two advice and show off their techniques. so can they really blame you for subconciously fighting back when seungmin slides his cock inside of you?

not really... but that wont stop minho from forcing both of your wrists into one of his. it also wont stop seungmin from thrusting even harder into you, quickly getting distracted with your tight cunt and forgetting the whole goal of the situation

he basically uses you as his own personal fleshlight until you both cum, jeongin cumming around the same time. you and jeongin are barely given a break before minho is pouncing with an order for the maknae to "get to it"

minho's a lot bigger and fucks into you faster and harder than seungmin, rolling his hips roughly and teaching jeongin to do the same. he sometimes even compares it to certain dance moves from their choreos and will slow his own thrusts to watch closely and make sure the maknae is moving correctly

once he's sure the boy has learned, minho's so rough with it that your eyes feel permanently rolled to the back of your head, his tip constantly pummeling into your sensitive walls.

it gets to the point where you cant control yourself when your nails start to rake down his arm! >< its just "too much!"

it makes him mad and he slaps your hand away, not wanting marks, only to be made even more upset when you push your hand against his lower stomach with begs for him to give you a break

but he has no plans to stop, not even after you've came yet again. and who are you to give him orders right now??? so he whistles for seungmin to help, and youre absolutely stunned when a piece of leather slides around your neck and gets buckled by the puppy man himself

he tosses the end of the leash to minho and helps him flip you over, manhandling you onto your hands and knees

at this point, jeongins completely zoned out. he's not nearly as overstimulated as you, but as his 2nd orgasm builds and as he's forced to watch some of his closest friends pound his dear girlfriend int his mattress, he feels like he's floating on another planet

so what happens when you're finally let go by seungmin and minho? what do you think happens when they leave your apartment, after teaching jeongin about aftercare, and you're left alone, still sensitive with your oddly quiet boyfriend?

not sleeping. thats for sure :) you're lucky he loves you and doesn't want to push your body too far, yet. so he'll only fuck you to orgasm once, but he's gonna be like a new man reborn, hips fucking into you faster than either of the men did earlier.

they didnt teach him this, but it comes all too naturally when he shoves his fingers into your mouth and pushes down against your tongue

the drool that drips down his wrist is almost enough to make him laugh, but the little semblance of jealousy in his veins tells him to do something more

he uses the spit on his fingers to pinch and massage one of your nipples, all while the other set of fingers are tangles in your hair and holds you flat against him.

he's so deep and your body has been through so much the last few hours that your own orgasm takes you by surprised, your legs shaking aggressively as your body convulses as best as it can with his iron grip on your head

& his mouth is so filthy as he uses you as his fleshlight- telling you that youre a little slut for enjoying the other men using you freely while he was forced to watch. he tells you how hes gonna use every last thing he saw you enjoy against you, from the leash & collar to the way your body was so happy at their rough hands on your- HIS pretty pussy

once hes finished he essentially redoes everything they did earlier for aftercare, adding in his own "spice" by running you a hot shower and kissing every inch of your body as he helps you wash off

he definitely gets hard again, but he'll deal with it himself while you sleep.

maybe if youre lucky, he'll wake you up with that pretty cock all up in your tummy again <3

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams

[holylulusworld]

No

Summary: You turn down every guy trying to hit on you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warning: many egos get scratched, fluff

“Hi, my name is Sam. I saw you from over there and wanted to invite you to a drink or more,” he says and flashes you a smile. He’s not bad to look at. If only he didn’t eye you like his latest meal.

“No—” you turn another man down. It’s a crux, going to a bar alone. Most of the guys won’t take no for an answer or show enough decency to leave a woman alone. You wanted to have one drink after work, only to get hit on by the next best guy stepping into the bar.

The man’s shoulders sag, and he goes back to his friends’ table. They pat his shoulder, telling him to not take it to heart. You almost feel bad for him. But only until the next guy from their table walks toward you.

Great. They turned this into a challenge. Watching the next guy walk toward you, you sigh deeply. This is going to be a long night.

“Hello, darling. Name’s Tony,” the next guy drawls. He’s older than the first guy. “Why is a pretty lady like you all alone at a bar?”

You roll your eyes. “Not to talk to a guy with a goatee,” you snap at the man to cut him off. “If you would leave me alone now. The answer is no.”

“Ah, you’re the angry kind,” he leans against the bar counter, eyes drinking you in. “Why don’t you join me and my friends at our table?”

“Sorry, I’m not into gangbangs.”

The guest next to you coughs loudly because he choked on his beer thanks to your reply.

You dismissively wave your hand, sending the guy back to the table with his friends. He shakes his head and joins the bunch of guys.

“Nice comeback,” the guest next to you chuckles. “Oh, here we go. You should prepare for the next one.”

“Not again,” you sigh and down your drink in one go. You tap the glass, ordering another one, while a tall blonde guy steps closer. He seems a little shy as his blue eyes search yours.

“Sorry to disturb you, but—” he clears his throat and points at the table with his friends. “My friends and I wondered if you want to come over and join us.”

You look him up and down. He’s very handsome. Tall and well-built, and his eyes are nice too. Still, you won’t give him a chance.

“Sorry, but no,” you say, smiling. “Maybe in another life.”

“Uh—thanks for your time,” he stammers and walks off. You watch him leave, sighing, as two more guys are at their table.

“Do you think the others will hit on me too?” You ask the guy next to you who ordered beer. He shrugs and grabs the beer to walk away. “Crap, no.” You groan as he joins the guys hitting on you. “He's one of them!”

The guys at the table start to talk louder. They wildly gesture toward the guy talking to you and then at you.

“Fuck no,” you groan as the guy from earlier walks back toward you. He left the beer on the table and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Here we go.”

You sip at your drink and watch him step closer. He flashes you a stunning smile, making your heart flutter. “Hello, doll.” He playfully says and winks at you. “It looks like I’m back.”

“Yup.” You pop the p and grin at him. “So, what’s your pickup line? Do you want to buy me a drink or offer a gangbang like your friend?”

“Oh, doll,” he purrs, and steps closer to cage you against the bar counter with his body. “I don’t share well. If I lay claim on you, you’re only mine.”

You shudder under his gaze. “Who says I’ll allow you to lay claim on me? I don’t even know your name.” He laughs at your comeback. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s funny that you don’t even know you’re already mine.” He cups your jaw with his gloved hand and looks you in the eyes. “What do you say? Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes.”

Steve, Sam, Tony, and the others watch Bucky wrap his arm around your waistline. He winks at them as you pass their table.

“What just happened?” Tony gasps loudly. “This can’t be! Cyborg-brain can’t succeed after all of us fail! How did he do this? How did he turn a no into a yes?"

You giggle and laugh as you run toward Bucky’s bike, holding hands.

“That was fun!”

"For how much longer will we pretend that we just met?” He asks while handing you the spare helmet he bought for you. “Doll?”

You place your hand on his chest and say, “I don’t know. Having a secret relationship has its advantages…”

Tags in reblog.

[kpopflowerfield]

Upgrade | yjw

ღ pairing: ex-bf!jungwon x business worker fem! reader

ღ word count: 4k

ღ genre: angst, smut and fluff ending

ღ rating: nsfw, mdni

ღ networks: @k-vanity @k-library

ღ warnings: drinking, cussing, unprotected sex (wrap up), choking, dom! jungwon, tit worship, pet names (good girl,baby) oral (m. receiving), a spot of throat fucking, very rough sex

ღ summary: you and jungwon broke up a while ago, so why is he suddenly texting you at 2am?

↠ check out the rest of the tracklist here! ↞

Seven months. It's been seven months since you and Jungwon called it quits on your relationship and since you both decided non-contact was the best way to go since you were beyond heartbroken to end your relationship with him, but it wasn't with malice. You just got a new job offer, and he wasn't willing to leave his job and follow you to another country as you pursued your career. You were a numbers person, too; sixty percent do succeed long distance, but you wanted to avoid ending up relying on calls and texts to make it work; you needed skinship and intimacy, and you couldn't do that over a call.

It took you a while to have two feet on solid ground, but it was coming together. Your fancy new place abroad with your big title of account executive. Everything was running smoothly for you. That's why waking up in the middle of the night to a faint buzz from your nightstand left you confused about whether it was part of your dream. "Jungwon?" You mumbled, rubbing your eyes as if you were clearing them from debris and rereading the message.

Yang Jungwon: I don't mean to break the non-contact agreement we came up with, but I wanted to know if there was a way we could meet again. I just want to sit down and talk; I feel like we left on a sour note.

You rolled your eyes and placed your phone back down on your nightstand. You tried to fall back asleep but couldn't. The realization that Jungwon actually texted you out of the blue and asked to meet up kept you tossing and turning all night. You scratched your head as your alarm went off. You sat up and began debating, responding. But the no-contact you agreed on was already broken, so what was the harm?

Y/N: Hey, I'm willing to meet up if we want to have a simple conversation. On Thursday, I'll be in town for a presentation.

Yang Jungwon: Sounds perfect. Just tell me where to meet you.

You sent the address and thought for a moment. You did regret ending the relationship with him some days, but then the days when you worked from seven in the morning until eight at night came, and you didn't regret it. You wouldn't be able to have your relationship through text if you couldn't even pick up your phone to begin with. It wouldn't be fair to either of you to say you were dating when you would rarely get a chance to talk. Accepting his offer of seeing him again did feel right, though. Just being able to see his face again made your heart heat a little.

The three days in between his message and when you were getting on your flight passed by quickly. When you told Jungwon to meet you, part of you started to wonder if he would ghost you and not show. You sat down at the bar, looking around and ordering yourself a cocktail as you waited. "Y/N?" you heard that familiar voice calling your name as you turned and looked at him. The once obsidian-colored hair had changed into a honey blonde, but other than that, there were no changes to Jungwon that you could see. He sat down next to you, a faint smile on his face. "How have you been?" He questioned as you tucked a few strands of your hair behind your ear.

"I've been good," You nodded and took a sip of your drink. "Not much has changed. I've been traveling a lot. But that's the job," You smiled at him. "What's new with you?" You watched as he took a sip of the drink that he had ordered. "Not much. I'm still at the same job, but I can't complain. The only change I've made in the past seven months was my hair color," He ruffled his hair, trying to think. A silence crept over until you spoke up. "Can I ask you to do something?" You looked at him, a sudden seriousness twisted in your words that were friendly banter before as he nodded softly. "What?" He looked at you, trying not to overthink the change in your tone. You swallowed before you started. "I know there were a lot of lies before I left. Please don't lie to me. Do you hate me for ending it?" You looked over at him.

You never confronted him about the feelings he was hiding from you. You only found out when a few of his friends reached out to you, telling you that he looked lost without you, and it took a lot for him to smile genuinely. You could read the way he couldn't find the words to say; he didn't know that his friends went to you about how he was feeling, nor was he expecting you to remember to ask him months later. "Listen, there's not going to be anything you say that will make me look or feel a different way about you." You wanted to give him the chance to tell you how he felt about what happened, as you never gave him the opportunity before you left. "I did," He nodded, taking another sip. "But, I'm over it now. It makes sense to do what you did. I wasn't willing to move, and your job is too demanding, so keeping a stable relationship would be hard." He looked at you, a soft smile still gracing his lips as you nodded in response. His eyes never left you.

"You're so beautiful," He looked at you, studying every feature. You laughed at him, hearing the way his words subtly slurred. He was on his third Jack and Coke, so it was hard to take his words seriously. "I'm not kidding." His bottom lip stuck out as he pouted at you. "Yeah, yeah," You laughed at him again, finishing up your drink and ordering another. "I just need one more chance with you." He sighed; you stared at him, seeing him spaced out, and you didn't know how to respond. "What do you mean?" You questioned, taking a sip of your drink. "I mean one last chance. I miss you," He sighed. Your cheeks flushed as you listened to him. "I've missed you too," You confessed, your voice small as you said it out loud for the first time.

The last few words left awkwardness lingering over the two of you. Jungwon sighed a bit as he finished the water he switched to. "Well, it's getting late," He checked the time on his watch. "It was nice to see you," He smiled. "Maybe we'll see each other again?" You nodded a bit, feeling him put something under your hand that was resting on the bar. You watched him walk away and towards the elevator. You looked at the card he had slid under your hand, a bit puzzled as you were expecting him to walk out the door to go to his place and enjoy the night with some friends.

Jungwon: I truly meant one more chance, btw. I'm in room 1103

You stared at the message on your phone. You pursed your lips, thinking of what to do. You were drinking, so your judgment was clouded. But god, did he look good, even better than when you left. You put your hand over your face, rubbing your temples. 'Fuck it, it's just one night,' Your thought was loud and clear as you stood up and made your way to the elevator holding Jungwon's room key close.

You knocked on the door lightly and tapped the card, hearing the door unlock. "One more chance, right?" You looked at him so seductively, making his heart skip a beat. He wasn't actually sure if you'd come to the hotel room to see him. He also wasn't expecting to hear that tone of yours anytime soon, but he was delighted to see your face in front of him. "It was so hard not to take you up here on my own," His voice matched that sweet, seductive tone that you had as he backed you up against the door until he heard it click shut.

Your eyes were locked with his as he stared at you like you were going to be his last meal, his eyes darting around, reading your expression and studying every part of your body he was able to. His hand cupped your face as he kissed you. Hungrily biting your lip and pulling at it, you moaned softly. His hand traveled from your cheek to your throat. Your eyes widened with excitement as he put light pressure on your throat. A moan escaped your lips as he let go. "Fuck, Jungwon," You let out softly; it had been a while since you last felt him do that. It still turns you on every time, and by the look in his eyes as he does it, you can tell it still turns him on, too.

He let his hands travel down your sides until they were gripping your hips tightly. His wet, sloppy kisses traveled down your neck, his fingers teasing their way up your sides, sending shivers through your body as he stopped at the collar of your shirt, lightly tugging. "How about we take this off?" He teased as you nodded quickly. He pulled at the shirt, watching the buttons pop open as he pulled it off of your body. He stared at your chest. His eyes turned dark with lust as he saw that black-laced bra that he'd always loved. "You're so gorgeous, fuck baby,"

His hands moved to your back, grabbing the clasp to your bra as he leaned down and kissed you, his tongue playing with your bottom lip as you kissed him back. He tossed your bra somewhere in the room as he grabbed your tits, kneading them gently. Just his touch was enough for you to elicit a moan. The cool air from the AC he had blasting made your nipples harden. Jungwon smirked against your lips as he felt the pebbled flesh under his hands. He pinched your nipples lightly, making you gasp as he kissed down your body, taking your chest in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peaks, and sucking on it lightly, his teeth grazing them, making your breath hitch. Your moans were quiet and breathy as he kissed your breasts. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he played with your pants, unbuttoning them.

You pushed them down, then pulled at the jacket he was wearing. He pushed it off, tossing it in the same direction as your bra. You pulled away from him, getting on your knees in front of him and pulling at the zipper of his pants. He unbuttoned them and pulled them down with his boxers. His cock was pointing straight towards your mouth, which began to salivate. "Be a good girl and suck it for me," He looked down at you as you stared into his eyes, not wanting to break eye contact with him. Your pussy was throbbing from the idea of having him again. You wrapped your hand around him, getting him as hard as you could before your lips parted, taking him in your mouth. The familiar taste of his salty precum met your tongue. You swirled your tongue around his sensitive head as he groaned.

Your head bobbed up and down as you slowly took more of him, letting him hit the back of your throat before you gagged, making saliva run down from the corners of your lips. "Careful baby, don't choke," He stammered, watching your plump lips take all of him that you could. He bit his lip, loving the feeling of your perfect mouth wrapped around him again. "God, I forgot how fucking good you are at this," His grunts covered up the noises of you slobbering all over his cock. His hand traveled to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he started to move your head on his own, using your pretty little mouth like a fuckhole for his pleasure. Tears welled in your eyes as you choked on him, gagging at the aggressiveness of the thrusts he was giving your mouth.

Your hands moved and grabbed his thighs, creating resistance from his thrusts into your mouth as he pulled out. "I forgot how good your mouth felt, baby; I didn't mean to do so much," His voice was gentle as you panted; your lips were swollen and glossy from the saliva that was previously wrapped around his cock. You nodded and looked at him, your eyes locked together. "I think I need you to remind me how good you fuck me," You smiled innocently as he stared hungrily into your doe eyes. "I think you need to get up then," He smirked, putting his hand out for you.

You took it as he carefully picked you up and off the ground. You followed his lead as he had you sit on the bed. He kissed you gently before holding your hips and turning you around. "Just like before, love, arch your back for me," He whispered in your ear from behind, making you shudder as you did as he said. Placing your forearms on the bed carefully and raising your ass in the air. His tip teased your soaking wet slit making your hips jerk backward, just wanting him inside without being teased. You heard a chuckle before your breath hitched, and you felt his cock burying deep inside your body.

Your walls clenched around him as he groaned, feeling your tight cunt adjust to his size. The deep, quick thrust was enough for you to cry out his name. Each thrust inside of you was desperate and hungry. He missed your pussy, and there was no denying it. His strokes never started or ended gently as his hips jackhammered into yours. "F-fuck Jungwon," You sobbed out at the intense pressure he was creating shockwaves go through your body. "Fuck, this pussy is so good," He continued with his erratic thrusts loving the sounds of you crying out for him and the feeling of your walls convulse around him. He grunted as his skin slapped against yours. You were gripped around his twitching cock as your body started to slump. "You gotta stay up for me, baby," He grabbed your hips, holding them up for himself. "It's just s-so much," You whimpered.

"J-jungwon," You stuttered as he smirked. "I love watching you take all of it so deep." He smacked your ass, sending a stinging pain through your body, making you whine out. "I love seeing it buried inside of you," He growled. Each stroke was sending you closer to your edge. "I-I'm so close," You sputtered as his relentless tempo didn't stop. Your walls were contracting against his rock-hard cock. "Cum for me, baby," His order sent shudders through your body as your moans grew louder from the brutal pace. You groaned as he buried his cock in you, making you hit your peak. He pulled out quickly, painting your back with his cum as he panted, pumping out everything he could. Your knees buckled as you collapsed on the bed, breathing hard.

You felt him get off the bed and go to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and cleaning his mess off of you. You rolled over and looked at him. His eyes looked a bit heavy from the exhaustion of fucking your brains out. He pulled the covers back and laid down next to you, gesturing for you to cuddle up next to him.

You moved and placed your head on his chest as he looked at you. "One more chance, right?" He looked down at you as you laughed tiredly against his chest. "That's what I've missed about us. The connection we had. Not just sexually but emotionally as well," He played with your hair as you moved your head away from his chest to look at him. "I've missed you, and I really want you back in my life, Y/N; I really never stopped loving you. We've always just made sense together." You held your eyes shut for a moment, taking in what he was saying. "Are you confessing after fucking me?" Your demeanor changed as you moved your body off of his.

"Come on, Y/N, it has nothing to do with us fucking; I wanted to say that since I saw you at that bar, but I didn't want you to run off," He looked at you as he sat up. "No, Jungwon, we might have made sense in the past, but not anymore. We're on two different paths. You're happy here and don't want to leave. I'm happy to have new experiences in different countries and get paid to visit these places. That's why I broke up with you. It just doesn't make sense to torture ourselves with desperation, waiting for the chance to see each other whenever we have the chance."

Jungwon looked at you as you got out of bed. "Please, Y/N, we can make it work. I know it isn't as easy, but I beg you to at least try it with me. I know what you're worth. But if you'll be mine, we can keep the idea of us being long-distance optional." You shook your head at him. "Trust me, it was for the best that we split." You walked over to collect your clothes, which had been thrown off and scattered around the room. "Just keep it in mind, please," He sighed. You looked at him and bit the inside of your cheek. "I'll think about it," He nodded as you got yourself dressed. "Please do," He watched every movement you were making.

You reached into your pant pocket, took out the room key, and placed it on his nightstand. "Here's this, don't want to forget it," You chuckled as he looked at it. "Thanks. Wouldn't want to get a silly charge for a missing key," He stared at it and exhaled. "Well, I'm going to get going," You looked at him, seeing the hair sticking to his forehead, and smiled softly. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your night," You walked out and shut the door gently behind you.

You walked to your room and immediately sat down in your bed before pulling out your laptop and tweaking your presentation. You were confident about it but still wanted to make a few adjustments to make everything run smoothly for yourself. When you presented it, it seemed like your mind was elsewhere. Every point you had to make felt like some foreign concept you weren't even familiar with. The idea of doing a presentation like this and being able to text Jungwon right after and going home and being able to call him and hear his voice felt so comforting. Maybe it wasn't the end of the world to try long distance; he was your first love, and even though you denied it, there still is a connection between the two of you that won't fizzle away. Once the meeting was closed, you walked out quickly and pulled out your phone.

Y/N: You've been on my mind all day. Especially what you said, I fear that we'll rekindle and have another breakup, and even though I'm the one who initiated it, I was heartbroken. It took a few months for me to be myself again. It's nothing against you. I just want what's best for both of us. I was scared of the distance, and I thought breaking up was the best thing for me to do to keep both of us from hurting and giving myself a clean slate to work with when I moved. I do still love you. I'm just scared of hurting us again.

Jungwon: Let's meet again at the same hotel and at the same time. We can talk in person instead of sending texts.

You groaned to yourself. It was easier to say the words over messages than in the moment where you had to come up with the words right there on the spot. You wanted to be able to think before every word that you wanted to say to him, but he was better with words in person than over text. It felt silly to try and argue with your side of wanting to send messages. You held your head but then let him know that you were willing to meet him. You paced around your room for a few moments before you walked down to the hotel bar, at the time you agreed to meet, and waited for him. You ordered yourself a drink, deciding to stick to water this time, not wanting to end up in bed with him again before being able to finish your conversation.

"Hey, stranger," He smiled at you cheerfully as he sat down next to you. "Hey," You smiled softly, watching him as he ordered himself a drink. "So you wanted to talk?" You looked at him as he nodded. "What made you text all of that?" He questioned as you took a sip of the water. "You told me to think of it as optional, and I wanted to explain why I'm not sure if I could even consider it an option," You avoided eye contact with him. Not wanting to look him in the eye as you confessed. "Listen, Y/N," He reached to your hand that rested on the bar and held it carefully.

"I'm not rushing anything," His voice was gentle. "I just love you, and I need you to know that. I want to give us another chance. I'm willing to make the move to be with you and have you by my side. I know I don't have to move, but seriously, Y/N, if you'll be mine…" He seemed to trail off as you stared at his hand. "Well, keep it optional," You laughed lightheartedly, repeating what he said just a day before.

You smiled softly, hearing his light giggle. "I'm sorry," he let go of your hand softly. "I really shouldn't have brought you down here to keep begging for a relationship that you don't want." He moved his hand away from you and closer to himself as you quickly grabbed it yourself. You held his hand tightly. "Are you actually willing to move to be with me?" You raised an eyebrow at him as he nodded quickly. "I would do anything to have a chance to be with you again." He looked at you, his eyes filled with admiration. "Y/N," He started.

"Listen, Jungwon, I know I've sounded negative, but I have realized that I missed you, and sitting here with you has been my favorite thing for the past two days. I'm willing to try long distances with you, but I don't want to make you move away for the sake of keeping me. That wasn't fair to you," You cut him off, expressing your thoughts that you were holding onto. He smiled at you, a sparkle in his eyes. "I'm willing to move with you. Wherever you go, I'm coming too." You looked at him, surprised, as he grinned. "Whenever and wherever we end up, I want to be with you. I love you, Y/N," He took your hand and kissed it as you smiled at him. "I love you, Jungwon, but I feel awful making you give up where you're comfortable just to be with me," He quickly shushed you and smiled. "I'm thinking of it as an upgrade in our relationship. Seven months is a lot longer than it seems, and I would say that we both have grown." You leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I like that idea," a blush crept onto your cheeks as you smiled at him.

[yanderedrabbles]

Sunk and Gone

Yandere! Gangster x Mafia Boss! Reader

Fluff, needy yandere, age difference, slightly suggestive content

He was just some dumb kid who played with fire.

Before he knew it, he was getting his ass kicked by the real deal, the big time guys.

He dropped your name out of pure desperation. He had no clue who you were really. He just wanted to save his own skin.

He never expected you to actually show up.

In your white tailored suit, you were like some mafioso guardian angel.

You tilted his chin up to face you and he couldn't bear to meet your eyes. You were goddamn terrifying.

"This little punk says he's one of mine?"

You lazily blew your cigar smoke into his face. It was black cherry, high class stuff. He can still remember the taste of it on his tongue, the way it made his whole body tingle.

He thought he was done for. You were probably gonna set your own guys on him for dropping names he had no business knowing.

He never expect you to save him.

His beat down gurus were cussing up a storm, saying he practically maimed one of their guys, he wouldn't even be able to walk for a week.

What bullshit. The most he did was give the guy a shiner before he was getting his own ass kicked.

You smiled at him then, like you knew exactly how much crap they were spewing.

You nodded and your guys threw a fat stack of cash on the table. All 100s. God, there must have been at least 5k just sitting there.

You hauled him to his feet and that's when he realised you were stronger than you looked too.

"Why?"

He barely even managed to ask that.

You were trying to light a new cigar and get back in your fancy car, but your lighter was just throwing up sparks.

He found himself reaching into his pocket and pulling out his shitty gas station lighter. He struck a flame and held it out to you.

You leaned in and caught his eyes for the second time that night. The flame was dancing in your eyes and you looked just like the devil.

He was sunk right then and there and he knew it.

He showed up outside your office everyday, waiting with his lighter clasped in his sweaty palm.

Everyday without fail, you would give him a chance to light one of your smokes for you.

"Don't you got someplace better to be kid?"

"No ma'am."

And he kept doing it, rain or shine or snow. On bad days, he'd bring his umbrella and unfurl it for you before you even stepped out of the car.

"You shouldn't keep hanging around kid. It ain't safe."

"I know ma'am."

He stayed, despite the dirty looks from the gangsters, despite the way they bumped into him hard enough to bruise. He stayed, stubborn as a goddamn mule, until you gave up on getting rid of him.

"I got a job for you kid."

"Anything you ask ma'am."

Oh he was a sucker for you. You had him hook, line and sinker without even trying.

And he worked hard. Running errands and then pushing drugs and then beating down the folks you set him loose on. There weren't any limits anymore, no line he wouldn't cross for you.

After a while, you let him in your guard rotation. And he was in bliss. He watched you constantly.

Hell, he couldn't take his eyes off you even if he wanted to. The capo himself said he was impressed with his diligence.

"Come here kid. You ever had oysters before?'

"No ma'am."

You were in one of your favourite restaurants, finishing up your meal and just drunk enough to have given yourself a pretty flush across your cheeks.

You made him lean toward you and gripped his chin before tilting the oyster into his mouth. It was salty and soft and his mind was going awful dirty awful fast.

After that he would order oysters whenever he could. He could almost feel your fingers on his skin when he ate them.

And soon he was part of your interrogation crew. His shirt sleeves rolled up and his forearms splattered with blood. He was putting on muscle now too and his punch hurt worse than a hammer to the face.

One unlucky son of a bitch made the mistake of insulting you right in front of him. God help him, when the anger cleared, the man's face was nothing more than pulp.

And you were watching him. One arm crossed under your breasts with the other balanced on it, a cigarette held up to your lips.

"You're a real good guard dog, you know that kid?"

"Thank you ma'am."

The next time you summoned him, you were in your office. Your heels were off and your legs were crossed, your stockings showing off the curves of your feet.

"Grab that pen for me."

It was on the floor under a side table and he had to get down on his knees to get it. When he moved to stand, you interrupted him.

"Don't get up. But bring it here."

"Yes ma'am."

He was grinning like a dog in heat. He put the pen in between his teeth and crawled on his hands and knees to you.

He sat at your feet like a goddamn puppy, his boner so fucking hard he thought it would rip through his trousers.

You cupped his chin in your palm and looked down at him. From down here, your legs looked a mile long and he wanted to lick every inch.

"You're such a loyal little thing, you know that?"

"Ysss mmm."

It was muffled because he still had that fucking pen in his mouth. And he was damn thankful for it too. Without something to bite onto, he was sure he'd actually be panting.

You took it carefully out of his mouth. A string of saliva followed it and you twitched your thumb across his lips to break the connection.

"Good boy."

You turned away from him, shaking the pen off a little and getting back to the books you were balancing.

He whimpered.

He actually fucking whimpered.

You smirked a little at that and shooed him away with one perfectly manicured hand. He dragged his feet walking out of there, his boner killing all higher thinking. Just hoping and praying you would call him back.

He turned to look at you before he closed the door. You had your face resting in one hand and you were tapping the pen against your lips with the other. Your eyes were entirely focused on your books.

He was your loyal dog. Now and always.

And he felt it all over again. He was sunk - hook, line and sinker.

[vidavalor]

<<I tend to think he just saw it all as more space for his books! 😂>>

Oh, babe, he definitely saw it as that, too. 😂 I'm in total agreement there! There are so many books in this shop that the weird, not-often-used rooms in S2 that we saw still just had them piled up everywhere. When I say they have a bedroom up there, I mean that there's a room of books which have been parted enough for there to also a bed.

There was, once, likely even a bookshelf running horizontally on the wall above the bed but Aziraphale got rid of that after the time they rocked the bed into the wall hard enough that Crowley got a mid-coitus concussion from a falling dictionary. Kidding. (Maybe? lol).

I also assume it's the location of Aziraphale's alluded to, ahem, private collections. It probably has a closet which has become home to a variety of random bits and bobs of Crowley's wardrobe going back decades, if the tie & shoes he gave Gabriel are any indication, and the things he doesn't keep at his flat. It's cozy, awash in books, and otherwise pretty normal. We can't see it yet, though, because they would like us to still be theorizing regarding its existence, as you wisely said.

<<It's probably been left so ambiguous because it wasn't important to the show at the time, and they figured it would give us something more to analyze/speculate on and write fanfic about!>>

Exactly. I'm dead serious. Like... we're going to see more of the bookshop but we are in what will be the last bit of the series and that was always the way it was going to go. Doesn't matter if it's a full season or a movie-- it's how they've been doing this since the start. What we see when is by design-- flashbacks, parts of the bookshop, all of it. It's partially an audience engagement tactic. It was in the book, too, but it's even more so in the tv series because that medium is especially great for a story like this.

I think that by telling the story out of chronological order and by being a little coy about what they show, the audience is engaging with its themes more as a result of also trying to solve the puzzle. It makes it more fun for the audience and it's also a more engaging way to tell the story for the people doing so because something we're seeing and when we're seeing it becomes significant to seeing the story.

Everyone can tell it's going to have a good ending to a point that they just basically told us what that ending is lol and they can because that's not at all what's driving interest in the story. No one is like what will the ending be?!; they're all what happened in 1941?! The juice of the story is in the flashbacks.

So, giving the audience that kiss in The Final 15 and leaving them knowing that Crowley & Aziraphale are going to be fine in the final season and what's in the flashbacks in The Finale? What's the twist to upend how we see what we're watching? It has to be that this isn't new because that would single-handedly rewrite all the flashbacks for some people.

What's going to make us see the scenes we've already seen differently once we get to the end of The Finale? If The Vavoom was their first kiss and was back in ancient times, is what.

I really, really think that they're about to drop a single scene that is going to make basically every single fanfic in this fandom need an AU-canon divergence tag and it's going to be amazing. Showing in 2.06 literally the worst kiss they'll have had and will ever have and writing the scene in such a way that half the audience is going to think this is new... but all after planting the seeds earlier in the season via The Vavoom for the twist in S3 when it's shown that it's very much not new? Perfect. 😉

It's not just the kiss-- the whole elevator cliffhanger to me was perfect. Because here we are, ages after the season aired, still chatting about wtf is actually going on in this show lol. There is no actual consensus about what we've been watching and that actually results in us all exploring it more deeply while we attempt to figure it out. It's a thousand times more fun.

Speaking of the bookshop, theories on what could be upstairs?

ooooo the BIG QUESTION.

so we can see a bit of the second floor in all these pics:

basically all we know for sure is there are A LOT MORE BOOKS, both stacked around the railing and on the circle of shelves. neil has decided not to comment on what else might be there (YET 👀) but he’s confirmed that much.

apart from that, we can see from the outside that there are six windows on the second floor:

i’m going to assume they’re part of the shop because they’re Very On Fire when the rest of the shop is on fire. SO. taking all that into account, you end up with something like this:

where the thin grey circle is the railing and the brown one is the bookshelves (as you can see in the first pic, it doesn’t circle all the way around!)

the rest is a complete mystery. i mean i’m sure the actual set was empty because they didn’t need to fill it, but in theory there’s room for some interesting stuff! with the first floor for scale i can imagine a whole flat built around that circle of shelves — a bed aziraphale never sleeps in, comfy chairs, every other angel knick-knack he’s encountered in his life. in my personal headcanon it’s all books and hoarded items covered in dust, which he leaves for authenticity.

thank you for asking!! i’d love to hear other people’s thoughts if they want to share :)

[bitchslapblastoids]

Prompted by your post about dnp inviting audience interaction: it /is/ really brave, and so interesting! I haven't been watching them for long at all and one of the biggest things that just drew me in and deeply fascinated me about them is how so much of their work (not just on stage) is in some way a conversation/interaction with their audience and the more you watch the more you notice it. No wonder its easy to be parasocial about them and about the Phandom itself!

To me, at least, they seem to be the sort of performers/creators that need a relatively high level of audience interaction in order to be inspired or for their work to feel meaningful. Like, im absolutely sure they could also create things without this close relationship with their audience but it seems to be what their naturally drawn towards? Obviously the problem has been in maintaining boundaries within that but it seems like that's going better now than at some points in the past, which makes me really happy for everyone!

Sorry about the long yap, this is so interesting to me and I just needed to express it a little

(original post referenced) yes!!! i love this!!! so beautifully worded! no need to apologize at all - i am in such hearty agreement and actually think about this so often. i think the engagement with their audience is their superpower, and it runs so deep. what was one of dan's favorite things about phil before he met him? phil's interactive adventure videos, in which he was creating an interactive experience for his viewers.

when they film pinof1 together, what are they doing? they're answering an audience-submitted q&a. the audience interaction is literally baked into their foundation! <3

2010, dan's uni dorm. what's displayed behind him on his wall? art and letters sent to him by viewers. he films danmail vids where he opens and reacts to said art and letters and personally thanks the senders.

for years and years and years, what's at the end of every phil video? fanart! draw phil naked! (in retrospect literally so weird lol but shhh)

the ongoing avalanche of vyous and younows and tumblr reblogs/follows and responding to yt comments and retweets and and and. so much interaction. the videos directly engaging with twitter and tumblr creations. they see us, they know us, they get us.

their first book? included a double-page spread with dozens of pieces of phanart.

every single one of their tours has multiple essential audience interaction components, and even more brilliantly, with multiple different access points that are perfectly calibrated to their audience. too shy to speak up? send in a submission ahead of time. want to be a part of the masses? shout something out during the audience participation segments! and there's always the likelihood that they'll include fanart in the show itself, casually mention an actual actively popular fic, throw in an ancient phwedding manip, or just build whole segments of the show around our tropes and the world that we created with them. all of that keeps things exciting and engaging on stage, bc you never know exactly what's going to come next. but it also keeps their audience feeling seen, valued, and like co-creators in a way.

When you look at the other britcrew and big yters from the 2010s, they simply weren't generating that ongoing, authentic conversation with their audiences. their approach followed the simple format of: i post, you watch. and then it became: i post, you watch, then i try and sell you something while i call you my 'community' because you are all watching me and sometimes you talk to one another in the comments. but it's not like zalfie or joe and casper etc. were chiming in on the convos too, or at least not in any meaningful way. it wasn't a community in the same way.

dan and phil truly built community. i think communities require mutual exchange, communication, a sense of value and worth, commonly agreed upon truths, shared experiences, touchstones of connection, and leaders who have integrity. i know this is all starting to sound a little lofty, but i really do think dan and phil are good humans who have worked hard to wield their power and influence responsibly and compassionately. they set the tone for us, constructed this world, paid attention to what landed for us, how we responded to things, everything that we were up to in response to what they were up to. they listened. they made us feel seen and celebrated and appreciated, and in turn we continued to celebrate them. they created weird inside jokes, we adopted them, then we all shared the weird inside jokes. they existed, we created our own language and lore and encyclopedia in response, and now there's a whole stage show about it.

that's how you get people sticking around for 15 years. that's how you get people to actually want to spend money on you. and yeah, some more boundaries at times couldn't have hurt. they fostered a sense of proximity and entitlement that obviously put them in harm's way. but i'd say ultimately what they've manage to do has been a net good for them and a tremendous success.

you raised such a good point that it seems to be what they are naturally drawn towards. i think it's because they, too, were fangirls. phil was writing buffy fic. dan was running a lost wiki. they both understood the power of online fan community before they were the titans of their own. they get it, they get us <3

[ataraxiaspainting]

Remina.

Yan Blade x GN (Mara-Struck) (Stellaron Hunter) Reader.

Synopsis: You know Yingxing, but you know Blade more and more with each passing day.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, descriptions of violence (not against the reader), mentions of Blade/the reader's want to die, and descriptions of the reader’s want for violence.

Word Count: 1k.

@knockout2483 here you go!! <33333

*~*~*~*

SELF-DESTRUCT FUNCTION UNAUTHORIZED.

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

PROCEEDING WILL CAUSE 24.25 MILLION UHLUHTC SPIDER SPAWN TO SPREAD FROM SECTOR SEVEN TO SECTORS ONE THROUGH ELEVEN, BUT NOT SECTORS ZERO, TWELVE, AND THIRTEEN.

TO PROCEED, PLEASE CLICK THESE KEYS IN THE FOLLOWING ORDER: FIVE, TWO, SIX-

*~*~*~*

Blade knows you went too far with this.

You know too – at least he thinks so; your mara-struck state has always been harder for Kafka to subdue.

“What a nuisance.” You spit out as you drag your sword back and forth across the thing blocking you from destroying the tower’s controller beyond repair. Blade’s hand. His palm is bright red and makes gut-wrenching noises yet he does not move or make a sound. “You never let me do things my way.”

“Please don’t speak to me like that.” He responds as his uninjured hand pulls layer after layer of the bandages that prevent his blood from pouring all across the concrete floor. “You don’t want to do this. At least to them. To us, even.”

You have now lost a majority of your once silver weapon – Blade’s hand regenerated just enough for you to be rendered powerless. Or at the very least powerless compared to him and the other Stellaron Hunters.

*~*~*~*

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

*~*~*~*

“The hell are you talking about, Yingxing?”

“Do you really want to watch this world burn again?” You let go of your handle, wincing like you just touched something straight out of a forge. Hell maybe – that would be more entertaining right now rather than being sat down and lectured again by someone who more or less shares the same ailments as you. A craving for bloodshed. A need for chaos to be unleashed upon an undeservedly orderly land. A body that will never die no matter how much the soul has eroded.

A desperate want to die.

All of them are uncontrollable though you are undecided about the last – self-inflicted death can be perceived as a sin, not a sacrifice for the greater good, in most of the planets you have been an unwelcome guest to.

Kraftluv II. A planet the perfect distance away from both Jarilo-VI and the Xianzhou Luofu – wedged in between them in exactly equal amounts according to countless mathematical studies.

You’re forbidden to enter the latter of the two per Kafka’s orders. Firefly told you that if you do all your assignments before the next meeting – the ‘assignments’ in question being gathering gifts for Silver Wolf because you accidentally broke one of her game consoles – you could be allowed to go fishing with her.

Firefly doesn’t know how to fish. Even if she did, you would much rather use your teeth instead of some lousy string attached to a carved tree branch.

*~*~*~*

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

*~*~*~*

“What I’m saying is,” Blade puts his arm to his side. Blood still rolls down from the edge of your sword and this time makes a small puddle just in front of his dirty shoes. “You’re supposed to be on good behavior. Even if you and I don’t get scolded, you’ll come to regret it after you return from lunacy. Me too.”

You don’t look at him, instead opting to stand up on your toes to get a better look at the machine you want to tear to pieces so badly.

Blade in turn moves his head to a diagonal so he can at least try to get you to focus on him. You murmur more curses under your breath than usual. He sighs but doesn’t attempt to correct your language this time. In the past, Kafka would giggle and pat your head as she dodged you using your nails to scratch her numerous times. Silver Wolf wouldn’t bat an eye because her connection to her games is more important than anything going on around her or beyond the stars she could see. Firefly would have her mouth wide open in shock at the sheer complexity of the Xianzhou Luofu’s lexicon when it comes to swearing. 

“Do you want to hurt all these people again? It hasn’t even been a year since you unleashed Silver Wolf’s virus onto Sector Eight. Without her permission, may I add.” In a smooth motion, Blade pulls your weapon out from his body – in a mere blink of an eye, a scar replaces the rather large crevice. The bandages are applied once again. He didn’t have to peel them off to begin with but he wanted you to see another example of what he is supposed to do to keep you in line.

*~*~*~*

TO PROCEED, PLEASE CLICK THESE KEYS IN THE FOLLOWING ORDER: FIVE, TWO, SIX, FOUR, SIX, ONE, THREE, FIVE, EIGHT, NINE, ZERO, ZERO, SIX. 

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

*~*~*~*

“Alright.” You answer after a while. He still keeps your blade above his head to prevent you from doing anything brash. “I’ll cancel it.” 

The light in your eyes starts to fade back into normalcy. The moon rises above the tower – a merciful gift to reward your teammate for putting up with your uncontrollable behavior. Blade makes a note to bring multiple blindfolds next time for when you two are in similarly sunny worlds.

“Can we go get dessert though?”

For once, Blade chuckles at the awkward timing. You always have a way to cheer him up somehow, not that you ever notice it.

“Sure,” He answers. “On me this time?”

“No… I’ll pay.”

“As you wish.”

[shecriestotheclickingoftime]

patrick def the type of bf to annoy the fuck out of you all the time (bonus points if you’re the sweet shy introvert type) but if anyone says something even slightly mean towards you he’s making their life hell (not physically just being bitchy) he won’t hesitate to set boundaries when it comes to you, making it clear no one can talk to you like that and then go straight back to pinching your cheeks and teasing you

ugh this is so real. patrick would be severely unafraid of PDA, and he would not be afraid to embarrass you- but if anyone else even tried to make you feel bad, he would flip... i really hope i did this prompt justice!!

request <3333

patrick zweig x reader, 1.1k words

possible tw for drinking, since they go to a bar

(and yet again, art donaldson will be third wheeling)

Patrick loved to be all over you in public. He was not at all afraid of PDA- he had always been loud and cocky, and now that he had you, he wanted to show off even more. 

He loved to bother and annoy you whenever he could, his teasing breaking through your usually reserved nature, as you rolled your eyes at him while holding back a smile, or hurled a benign insult back at him as he grinned straight back at you. Patrick always took advantage of how he could tower over you, always getting too close and pinching your cheeks and whispering how cute you were, completely unembarrassed about showing everyone his love for you, and he loved to see how your face flushed at his words. He knew that you were sensitive and loved the banter and the affection, even though you wouldn’t outwardly admit it the way that he would. There was nothing better to him than to watch your quiet, stoic demeanor break at his words.

You and Patrick balanced each other out perfectly. He was always there for you at social events, his hand around your waist, and always knowing when to take over conversations to give you a break. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, and he wasn’t afraid to speak yours either, never hesitating to defend you or speak up for you, especially when you were too anxious to do it yourself. And you were so perfectly the opposite- you were always there for him with a gentle, quiet kind of love that he never felt before, and he could let himself be soft and vulnerable around you. 

So, when you, Patrick, and Art had ended up at a bar on a random Saturday night, Patrick couldn’t help but be all over you. And you clung onto him a little extra tonight, holding Patrick’s hand so tightly it was like you were scared that he’d leave. Your grip didn’t falter at all as the three of you hung around the bar area, ordering drinks and sipping at them as Art and Patrick discussed some tennis news, making sure to describe each player to you and fill you in on whatever gossip was going on around each of them, knowing those stories might entertain you more than just the numbers and scores from whatever tournaments were going on. (While you didn’t ever mind hearing Art and Patrick talking about tennis, the only games that you actually cared about were the ones that they actually played in- you weren’t so invested in the tennis world outside of watching them.)

As the conversation went on, you had mindlessly shifted from holding Patrick’s hand, now clutching onto his arm, your hand on his bicep as you held onto him tightly. Patrick looks down at your face, a smug grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere” Patrick teased, amused by how touchy you were being. Putting his drink down on a table, he used his now-free hand to pinch your cheek, trying to annoy you like always. He obviously didn’t mind you holding him like that- he honestly loved it- but that doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t tease you about it. “First my hand, and now my arm… you’re clingy tonight,” Patrick said, loving how your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 

“Shut up,” you snapped back at him, but there was no anger behind your words. And you also made no move to let go of Patrick at all, still staying as close to him as possible. 

Art laughed in amusement at the display, enjoying the sight of his best friend clearly so down bad for you. “I think I’m gonna go say hi to the tennis guys,” Art said, flashing a grin as he walked across the bar. 

Patrick looked back down on you, a mischievous grin on his face as he wrapped his strong arms around you, holding you against him in a tight hug. Right there, in the plain sight of everyone at the bar, he pulled away slightly, holding your face gently, showing off as much affection as possible. He always knew how to push your buttons just enough without going too far, or making you actually feel bad. But, he couldn’t help but love the slightly pissed off look you gave him when he embarrassed you like that, pinching your waist as he let you go, a huge smile plastered on his face as he slipped his hand back into yours.

He got you another drink as the two of you joined Art’s conversation with his college tennis friends, Patrick seamlessly joining the conversation as you comfortably listened, sipping your new drink. You saw Patrick gaze down at you fondly, noticing your silence and checking in, when one of the guys in the circle interrupted the conversation, turning to you.

“Does she even talk?” you heard a drunken voice yell, turning your head to the short, muscular boy drunkenly laughing at own his comment as he turned all of the focus onto you. You looked started, and then quickly embarrassed as the guy continued to laugh at your timidness. Before anyone else could react, Patrick stepped forward towards him,easily towering over the guy, glaring straight down at him. It may have been just a small, stupid, drunken comment, but Patrick was not having it. There was no way that Patrick would ever let this fucking douchebag embarrass you, and there was especially no way that Patrick would sit there and watch you feel bad at all. 

“Who the fuck even are you?” Patrick asked sharply, watching as the other guy’s former confidence quickly drained out of his face. Patrick stared down at him, and with a venomous glare, and he strangely calmly said, “get the fuck out of here”. 

And just like that, he backed away and left, knowing it would be a mistake to even try to defend himself here. And after the guy was far enough away, Patrick stepped back to where he was next to you, quickly intertwining his hand with yours, as you and Art looked at each other in surprise, Art stifling laughter after watching just how easily Patrick had intimidated that guy. Patrick had always been loud and not afraid to fight, but something about the way he defended you was different. 

The conversation continued on after that, no one seemed to think twice about their friend’s absence. As their discussion droned on, you saw Patrick’s demeanor slowly soften again as he squeezed your hand and motioned at Art to leave. 

The three of you quickly excused yourselves as you headed out of the crowded bar and into the cool night air, and Patrick playfully draping his arm around your waist, then turning pinching your face and pressing a kiss on the top of your head, a satisfied grin appearing on his face as you roll your eyes at him, but not being able to hide a shy smile as you let him pull you into his side, letting him guide you back home. 

[wigglermansblog]

Down to the Cybertron

Synopsis : Join Orion Pax and his friends unraveling the secrets of Cybertron and the Primes. But what lies beneath is better to be left undiscovered.

Prologue II >>

---------------

Prologue I

------------

"Hey! Get back here at once!"

Two guards are chasing after a blue and red bot, who is laughing to himself as he takes sharp turns in  order to escape the guards. He runs through the crowd causing the guards to lose sight of the cogless miner.

Orion Pax quickly gets onto the train that would lead him back to the mines, he grins to himself and pops a few energon cubes into his mouth.

"Easy peasy~" he grins as he leans on the wall.

What a day, he couldn't wait to tell D-16 about his research at the Archives. There's a lot of things he wants to talk about and there's might be a chance for them to find the Matrix of Leadership.

As soon the train reaches the mines, he steps out and goes straight to find his friend, D-16.

His optics spots D-16 pushing a cart full of energon, he grins and starts calling out to the bot. "Hey, D!" he calls out as the grey mech turns his helm and glares at the red blue bot "Orion, where were you?!" he hiss. "You've been missing for hours!".

"It's only like one hour! I was quick, don't worry" assure Orion.

"Quick?! You've missed half the day's shift! If anything happens, I ain't helping you with your workload!" D-16 says in exasperation, unloading the energon into the crate. He clearly dislikes his friend breaking the protocols. Always get himself in trouble and he won't be there to save him if gets himself caught by those guards.

"Oh—" Orion's optic widens in realization, he didn't know he was gone for THAT long. "Well, uhh...heh heh...I'll get to work then" the bot rubs the back of his neck. Guess he has to start his shift before Darkwing or Elita finds out he's been snitching work.

D-16 rolls his optics as he loads the last energon into the crate and he will be done for the day. It was tiring and his body felt sore, the workload has been increasing day by day. They barely get any rest, if they do, they only get a few minutes or so.

He closes the crate and watches it get taken away.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Is this all it?" Sentinel says in disbelief, holding a data pad in his hands. He slams the data pad on the table causing everything on the table to be knocked over. He received the news of the mining progression and it wasn't good at all.

Their energon source is depleting and it won't be enough for everyone, let alone... for THEM! The Quintesson.

He has to find a way.

"Argh! There has to be a way!" he vents angrily. His optics turn to Arachnid, "Ready the troops for another expedition, now" he said as the femme nods and exit the office. Once he is alone, he turns around and calls out.

"Zephyrstrike! You told me that everything is going smoothly!" he said, coming out from the shadows is a slim mech in copper and black pallets.

"My master, please. Be patient, my team and I are doing our best to find it" Zephyrstrike said in a calm and soothing tone. "Patience! Patience that's all you said—" Sentinel growls, stomping over to the shorter mech. "I will be doomed once the Quintesson finds out that I barely provide energon for them!" he said.

"I know, master but finding the Matrix isn't easy. SteelHazard is trying his best to locate it, he hasn't had enough sleep for the pass cycles...." the mech said. "Also— I bear good news, master. We have found a new mining area within the deepest caves of Cybertron. It will give us enough supplies for the next 3 moon cycles" Zephyrstrike assures the 'Prime'.

Sentinel quirk a brow at the news, a new mining area means more energon and more energon means more work for the cogless miners. The 'Prime' fixes his structure, "Very well, tell the mining operators about it and make sure everything goes well. Understand?" he said.

Zephyrstrike smiles and bows, "I understand, master" he said before disappearing into the shadows, back where he came from while Sentinel turns and leaves for another expedition.

.

.

.

"Listen up, all of you miners!" Darkwing's voice boom, causing all the miners to stop whatever they are doing. "The exploration team has discovered a new cave system. You know the drill! We call out your names, get your equipment and start digging!" he said. Some of the miners weren't so happy with the news they have received, another cave to mine and they have to work more than usual.

Their superiors start to call out each bots names and surprise that both Orion and D-16 were included.

Orion let out a groan, "Ugh, really? We barely finish with this cave and now we have another?" he said. "Come on, Orion. We are doing this for the good of Cybertron, for everyone and Sentinel Prime" D-16 said, picking up his mining equipment. "Yeah, I know" Orion smiles as he does the same. Both of them went to the station and were ready to be transported to the new cave.

"Hey, at least we get to see something new" D-16 smiles, nudging his friend. "Who knows if we will find the Matrix in that cave" he said. "Hm, you're right! But—I'm going to miss going to the Archives now" he pouts. "Well, at least now I don't have to cover your aft anymore" D-16 said.

"Are you sure about that?" Orion grins as they board the train as it takes them to the new mining section.

.

.

.

(End of Prologue I )

[darktrashsoulbear]

Cold Nights, Cosy Hearts

Modern Aemond Targaryen x girlfriend!reader

Based on this request made by Hannah @gwaynesprincess

Summary: After an unexpected interruption to their cosy night in, Aemond and reader try to find a way to somehow salvage the night and spend some quality time together.

House of the Dragon Masterlist

Warnings: Smut, minors do not interact

Word Count: 3350

Divider Credit: @saradika-graphics

Any likes, comments and reblogs are always always appreciated :)

The sound of his ringtone interrupted Aemond’s reading of Arnold J. Tonybee’s ‘A Study of History’. With a grin he looked down at his phone hoping it was his angel. The grin soon soured as he declined the call, eyes rolling to the back of his skull - Aegon. Averting his attention back to his book he continued, the serene silence making for the perfect autumn, late afternoon atmosphere to catch up on his reading as he waits for his angel to come home.

Aemond learnt from a young age that his elder brother had a penchant for ruining perfect moments, he was a fool to think this time was an exception. He hastened to the front of the flat not wanting the neighbours to believe there was an attempted break in occurring at the sheer volume of the banging at the door. Swinging open the door sporting a glare that could freeze the sun, Aemond grasped the arm of the nuisance and dragged him inside before quickly slamming it shut again.

Said nuisance, unphased by his anger, jumped onto the sofa in order to lay down - ignorant to his shoes rubbing all over the fabric. Momentarily unsure of how to react to the scene before him, Aemond stilled before snapping back to reality and ripping Aegon’s legs off of the sofa, almost throwing him to the floor. 

“Oi, what was that for!”

“Get out Aegon!” Aemond snapped not bothering to dignify his question with a response

“Must I remind you that it was YOU who just yanked me through the door, weirdo!” Aegon fired back, his amusement clear

“Why are you here?” The younger demanded

“I had no other choice with you dodging my calls!” Aegon continued, “what if it was urgent?”

“Is it?” he questioned, defeatedly leaning against the wall adjacent to the sofa

The hesitation that followed told Aemond all he needed to know as he, once again, began ushering his brother out, telling him he’s busy. Stubbornly Aegon refused clinging onto the backrest of the sofa as though his life depended and at this point, it very well could have. As the brother’s struggled they found themselves on the floor, forgetting the actual task at hand and just exchanging brotherly blows trying to get the advantage.

The scene you walked in on was one you wouldn’t forget. On the carpet before you was Aemond half kneeling on the floor with Aegon wrapped around the one not touching the floor, like a koala - seemingly in a struggle as you watched one of Aemond’s hands go from trying to pry him off to his hair and yank. At this you couldn’t contain your laughter anymore as, body curling in as the sound of your cackles rang out. 

This caused Aemond to lose focus, letting go of Aegon’s strands, as his head snapped back towards you. Just as he opened his mouth and went to say something, Aegon used his distraction to his advantage and rose up, arms still wrapped around Aemond’s leg using it to shove him onto his back and triumphantly sat on both his legs, pinning them down and casually waving at her. 

“If you boys are busy then I can text Helaena, see if she wants to meet up or something,” you suggested, half genuinely wanting to give them space and half desperately not wanting to be forced to babysit the two brothers.

“That would be grea…” Aegon began but was cut off by Aemond yet again burying a hand in his hair in order to free himself.

“No!” he interjected, “we promised we’d spend the evening with each other, I’ve got the movies rented and menus ready to order a takeaway. Just give me a sec to get rid of him and we can start baby.”

Aegon finally freeing himself again began “I may have a thing for hair pulling but certainly not with you little brother, with your girlfriend on the other hand…” he trailed off, shooting you a wink, “and now there’s no way you’re getting rid of me, movies and a takeaway? Count me in!” he moved back over to sit in the middle of the sofa tapping the spots on either side of him with his hands.

Aemond chose to ignore him entirely and walked over to his angel, grasping your hands and telling you to go “relax, get into something comfortable and decide what we should watch first” while he dealt with the 5”9’ problem in the flat. However, before you could even take a step in the direction of their bedroom, you were interrupted by a loud declaration from the man on the sofa.

“I do agree you should get changed doll, but into something to go out in. The three of us are going to go meet some people at the pub, maybe go out after”

Judging by the vein protruding from the side of her boyfriend’s neck, you knew now was the time to step in. Nodding to Aegon, you grasped Aemond’s hand, interlocked your fingers and led him to their bedroom, ensuring the door was locked behind them. You guided him to take a seat on the bed as she stood before him, bringing his head against her stomach, running one hand through his hair and the other massaging circles between his shoulder blades.

After a few minutes of silence, Aemond mumbled something about how Aegon must have a compulsion of ruining everything. His angel only softly chuckled as you continued soothing him.

“Would it be so bad if we indulged him and just went along?” You began before he moved his head away and looked up as if you’d sprouted another head, taking a seat next to him you quickly added on, “Let’s say we do go, what would really happen? We have a drink or two with him, then he gets distracted by a pretty girl and leaves us alone, we have a couple of drinks and chat, then we come back here and watch movies and get a takeaway like we planned.”

After a moment of thought, the corner of Aemond’s lips quirked up and he put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in to press a few kisses on the top of her head. “A fine plan, my angel, a fine plan indeed.”

Preening at the praise you added “and besides we could use this as an excuse to get out of future plans we want no part of, ‘what do you mean we never go out with you Aegon? Do you not remember last time when we cancelled our date night just to join you, only for you to ditch us for a girl?’ We’d have a solid argument baby.”

At this Aemond let out a genuine laugh, pulling you up to her feet before wrapping his arms around your waist. He pressed a kiss to your lips, trailing his hands further down, copping a feel before letting her go to allow the two of them to get ready for the night.

One would think that after acquiescing to his wishes, Aegon would become more manageable. That would incorrect, instead he was bounding down the street as free as a child half his age. Aemond and his angel trailed behind him, huddling closer together for warmth. His left and your right were in the pockets of your own coats while the others were intertwined and shoved into Aemond’s other pocket.

Reaching the too lively pub, Aemond tugged you inside, eyes frantically scanning the place for an available seat. Aegon, of course, made a beeline for the bar and was frantically waving back at them to join him. Smirking, his angel pulled him over towards him and he reluctantly trailed behind. 

“See guys, isn’t this so fun? Seriously Aem I don’t know how you managed to bag a girl like her, what with the giant stick permanently lodged up your -” Aegon was cut off by you sliding close to the rogue.

“Don’t look now Aegon but that girl over there, on the other side of the bar, she’s staring at you. Like really really into it,” and Aegon of course immediately whipped around, eyes zeroing in on the girl whose eyes were flicking over with mild interest - but he didn’t need to know that.

“Well then, my lady, weirdo, I’d best not deprive her of the best night of her life for much longer! I’ll catch you guys in a second, just stay close.” Aegon instructed, walking backwards towards the girl in the hot pink dress.

With that the couple were left alone and Aemond’s relief was evident. As Aemond got the attention of one of the bar staff, you turned to find somewhere a lot more discreet to sit. Spotting somewhere in the back you grabbed the drinks as he paid and the two of you made your way over to a small table near the back.

Taking a seat on the small stools you set the drinks down and Aemond turned to you giving you a small smile and retaking your hand, palm up, tracing the lines on it. Abruptly looking up a final time his eyes darted back over the where Aegon was, relieved to see he was still by the markedly more interested looking girl.

Turning back to your eyes he felt an overwhelming sense of adoration flow through him, reaching out he tucked a rogue strand of your hair behind your ear as you bit your lip looking up at him with a gaze that made him dearly regret ever entertaining the idea of leaving their bedroom.

Just as he cupped your face with one hand, the other tugging your chin up and closer, and began leaning in, he heard a dull thud on the opposite side of their table top. Looking across you saw a man at least in his early 40s, wearing a worn suit slump into the stool opposite you - eagerly grabbing and downing half his pint of Guinness.

Slowly he lifted his gaze to the two of you and looked at you as though you were the inconveniences. Which apparently was the final straw for Aemond as he gave him the deepest scowl you’d ever seen. This caused one of the most amusing exchanges of words you’d ever seen your boyfriend involved in…

“Don’t know why you’re giving me that look boy, you don't own the table you know,” the man began.

“Look mate, I meant no harm, me and my girl were just wanting-” Aemond began feeling less than civil.

“Oh boy you couldn’t harm a fly even if you did mean it,” the man scoffed, flicking his hand dismissively.

You could see the way Aemond’s hand tightened into a fist and his jaw clenched. Knowing you had to do something to de-escalate the situation you opened your mouth to address him.

“Don’t you even think about putting your two-pence missy, this is between me and the lad,” the balding man interjected.

At this your eyes widened, eyebrows slightly lifted momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of the man that came and sat at your table. Aemond angled his head towards you, his gaze sending a clear message ‘just say the word and I’ll deal with it’. But before he was given the chance your pint of Stella Artois somehow made its way all over the man’s front.

At his shocked gasp, you and Aemond looked at each other and the message was clear. Run. Darting out of the pub, hand in hand, Aemond leading the way. The seven o’clock evening chill in the night was biting compared to the heat in the pub and caused you to shiver as you realised you left your coat inside near the bar.

Realising this Aemond offered to go back and fetch it but not wanting to risk getting barred from the pub, you shook your head reassuring him that you’d be fine for the walk home. Turning to begin the walk, another shiver coursed through you as you attempted to huddle further into your knitted dress, thankful you had the forethought to wear plain black leggings instead of tights.

Observing, Aemond tugged on your wrist causing you to swivel back as he draped his own coat around your shoulder, helping you slide you arms in. You tried to refuse, insisting he kept it for himself, but vehemently denied you stating that Targaryen’s have warmer blood - thanks to their royal lineage from centuries ago, blood of the dragon apparently.

Finally acquiescing, you gave him a peck on the lips grasping his left hand to shove into the coat pocket until he yet again stopped you. Looking up at him confused, he moved you so that you were now standing on his right - away from the pavement. He then allowed his right hand to find home in the coat’s  pocket, the other sliding into the pocket of his jeans.

Seeing your eyes roll at his actions, he simply gave you a smirk “you always claim that chivalry is dead in modern society angel, I’m simply proving otherwise”.

Turning the corner, relief filled you as you spotted your flat building meaning you’d soon be out of the cold. As much as Aemond liked to pretend he was unaffected you could tell the cold was getting to him. Still clasping his hand in the coat pocket you leaned against his side providing as much as you could without bruising his ego. As he looked down at you, you could see the shift in gaze, darkening at you wearing his clothes.

He abruptly stopped and walked you back until your back hit the brick wall behind you, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, the other sliding down to the small of your back pushing you against him. As he leaned his forehead against your own, your hands trailed up - one hand resting against his chest, the other coming up to curl around the back of his neck. Your legs slightly opened allowing his thigh to slot in between your own.

Just as he leans down to finally lock your lips in what was sure to be a passion infused breathtaking kiss, a shocked gasp interrupted him. An incredibly deep and agitated groan escaped Aemond, was having a brief uninterrupted moment with the love of his life really so much to ask for?

Slowly pulling away from each other, detangling your limbs you looked over at where the sound came from. It was Billy, the little boy from a few doors that had an affinity for sneaking out while his parents were distracted. Walking over you crouched down before him, “Hey Billy, are you alone sweetheart?”

He hesitated before slightly nodding his head “…yeah”.

“Are your mum and dad upstairs?”, prompting another small nod of his head.

“Well then I guess Aemond and I should take you back up to them, right Aemond?” You said over your shoulder.

Aemond, in return gave a deadpan look - to which you responded with your own - but eventually nodded wrapping an arm around you, pulling you inside as Billy’s little hand grasped your own.

Walking over towards the lifts Aemond went inside and pressed the up button. That’s when you noticed the out of service sign and couldn’t help but chuckle at how the universe seemed to be plotting against him tonight. 

Taking a deep breath to steady himself he ushered you and Billy up the stairs before following after, which proved to take a lot longer than initially thought due to Billy’s much smaller legs climbing up to the fourth floor. Finally arriving you quickly stepped across the hallway walking past your door to the flat three doors down and rang the doorbell.

It was safe to say Billy’s mother had quite the shock when she pulled it open to be met with her son, the friendly neighbour and her sometimes friendly boyfriend standing before her. Recovering quickly she immediately began chastising Billy for wandering off again and profusely thanking the two of you for returning him safely. Reassuring her that it was no trouble at all, you allowed Aemond to drag you away back up the hallway and into your own flat.

Closing the door behind him, he turned to you the same predatory glint in his eye returning as he eyed you up and down, drinking you in.

As you pushed  Aemond up against the door to your bedroom, he removed his coat from around you, throwing it to the floor all while kissing each other as though your lives depended on it. Parting from him you turned the doorknob behind him, pulling him behind you with a finger curled around one of the belt loops on his trousers.

Moving him to sit on the bed, you pulled his sweater off along with the top he was wearing underneath. You then guided him to stand and instructed him to take off his trousers and pants as you removed your own dress and leggings. As he returned to full height, stark naked he gazed into your eyes, waiting. 

Parting your legs before you, you slightly tilted your head down and that’s all the prompting he needed as he gracefully fell to his knees before you. Hooking your left leg over his shoulder, he began kissing up your leg - starting at your calf- licking and sucking as he went.

When he finally reached the apex of your thighs your body fell back against the mattress as he licked as though it was his final meal, nose rubbing against your clit, tongue dipping inside your core. Moans and whimpers escaped your lips as you pleaded - unsure of what for but he seemed to understand as he drove you closer and closer to your release.

Finally with his whisper of “let go for me, my love” you tipped over the edge, thighs shaking and back arched, fisting the sheets.

Climbing up the bed, Aemond’s hand stoked your hair bringing you down from your high. Flipping over onto your stomach, you brought your hand down to wrap around him before sitting up to straddle his thighs, pushing him back to lean against the headboard. Reaching back to unclip your bra, you threw it in the direction he’d discarded your panties.

Re-taking his length in your hand, you guided him to meet your entrance, sinking down you both let out pleasured groans. As he reached up towards your breasts, you took both hands in yours and pinned them by his sides - intertwining your fingers as you moved up and down. Leaning over to kiss him again, you allowed him to move from your lips, down your neck and chest until they wrapped around one of your nipples - alternating between the two between chants of your name.

Switching so your hips were now rotating in circles and grinding against him to make him brush against your g-spot. Releasing his hands you allowed him to touch you all over. Moving your hand to circle his throat you felt his heart beating erratically as the other hand moved to brace yourself against his hard chest as you leaned forward which allowed him to piston his hips up, chasing both of your releases.

When he felt you squeezing him tighter than before he moved a hand down to your clit, driving you to your release as he chased his own. Staring into each other's eyes you fell apart together while you collapsed against his chest. Arms wrapping around you, he rolled you to your side, pressing a kiss to your lips as he left to grab a rag to clean the both of you up.

Returning, he pulled you against his chest as you both felt the built up exhaustion from your day overcoming you. Before allowing sleep to whisk you away, you once again made eye contact, gazes expressing nothing but the pure depth of love you hold for each other. Regardless of how the day didn’t go to plan, in the end you had each other and that’s all that mattered.

[cailinsblog]

The Café by the Rink-Nico hischer

Nico hischer x reader

Masterlist

It was an ordinary Tuesday morning in Newark, New Jersey, when Nico Hischier first walked into *Maggie’s Corner Café*—a quaint, family-owned spot nestled just down the street from the Prudential Center. The place had an old-school charm, with mismatched furniture, the hum of indie music in the background, and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. It was a cozy hideaway, a far cry from the bustling streets just outside.

Y/N had been working there for a few months, ever since she moved to the city. She loved the routine—the familiar faces who came in for their daily fix of caffeine and conversation. Then, one day, Nico Hischier walked in.

He wasn’t wearing his Devils jersey, just a hoodie and a baseball cap, trying to blend in with the regulars. He ordered a black coffee with a shot of espresso. Simple. Direct.

"Coming right up," Y/N said, smiling at him without thinking too much of it. He was just another customer.

But the next day, Nico was back. And the next. Every morning, at exactly the same time, he’d walk in, and she’d already know what to make for him.

“Good morning, Neeks, your usual?” she’d say, her voice light and familiar.

Nico would chuckle, his eyes sparkling as he leaned against the counter. “You know it.”

It became their unspoken routine. While Nico’s fame followed him everywhere else, in the café, he was just a guy who loved a good cup of coffee. He’d sip it slowly, chat about the weather or the team, and then slip out just as quietly as he came.

But one morning, everything changed.

Nico walked in with an entourage. His teammates. They filled up the small café, taking seats at the corner booth and laughing amongst themselves. Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t let it show. She greeted them all with a friendly smile, jotting down their coffee orders.

Nico leaned over the counter, his voice lowered but full of intention. “We’re getting coffee for the whole team today.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile still warm. “Okay... what can I get for you guys?”

Each player had their own preferences—lattes, cappuccinos, iced coffees—and Y/N moved quickly to get their orders just right. Nico stayed close, watching her work, a hint of pride in his eyes.

When she handed them their drinks, Nico pushed a stack of bills toward her. “For the team. They’ll be back. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Y/N glanced down at the money, a little stunned. “You’re... seriously?”

“Yeah.” Nico smiled, his tone serious but kind. “The boys love your coffee. Trust me, it’s not just the caffeine.”

The team’s visits became more frequent after that. The café buzzed with excitement, not just from the regulars, but from the growing crowd of fans who started coming in, hoping to catch a glimpse of a player or hear an inside joke. As word spread, the New Jersey Devils started supporting the café, covering the costs to help it stay afloat. The little family-run café that once struggled to keep the doors open was now thriving, thanks to Nico’s quiet generosity.

One afternoon, as Nico sat by the window, Y/N came over to check on him, setting down a fresh cup of coffee.

“You’re always here,” she teased, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Don’t you have a game to get to?”

“I do,” Nico replied, his voice low, “but I had to stop by. Got something for you.”

He handed her a small envelope. She took it, surprised. Inside was a note with the Devils logo on it.

“We’re sponsoring the café now,” he explained, watching her face as she processed the words. “The team wants to make sure you stay here for a long time.”

Y/N’s heart skipped. “Wait, really? You—you did this?”

Nico shrugged, a modest smile crossing his face. “It’s nothing. You’ve built something great here. We just wanted to help.”

A wave of emotion hit her. It wasn’t just about the business—it was about Nico’s belief in her, in the place she’d built with her own two hands. She couldn’t find the words to thank him, so she just nodded, touched.

And then, one evening, after another high-energy game, Nico found her sitting at the café, the place quieter than usual as the evening rush had passed. The lights above the counter were warm, the late-night hum of the city outside making everything feel a little more intimate.

“Hey,” Nico said, his voice soft. “Did you enjoy the game?”

“It was amazing,” she replied, smiling at him. “I never thought I’d be sitting courtside, watching you score.”

Nico grinned, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer than usual. “I think I made a goal just for you.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You didn’t have to. But thank you. It was... special.”

There was a quiet pause, and then, without another word, Nico stepped closer. His hand gently brushed against hers on the counter. The touch was electric, simple, but full of intent.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice a little unsure, like he was testing the waters. “I know this is a little crazy, but... I like spending time with you. More than just coffee and small talk.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart racing. “I like it too, Neeks.”

His name was a soft whisper on her lips. And that was all it took. The distance between them vanished in an instant, and Nico’s lips found hers in a kiss that was slow at first, almost tentative, as if they were both savoring the moment. It was gentle but filled with all the words neither of them had said yet—the unspoken truth of what had been building for months.

When they pulled apart, both of them were smiling, their eyes locking in a way that felt new but also familiar.

“Good morning, Neeks,” Y/N whispered, her voice soft and full of meaning. “Your usual?”

Nico chuckled, his thumb gently tracing her hand. “You know it,” he replied, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the smile on his lips.

And just like that, the coffee shop where it all began had become the place where everything changed. Where the ordinary became extraordinary. And where two people, brought together by a cup of coffee, found something more than either of them could have expected.